Star Wars: Shadow of Skywalker

Sojourn was not a place of life. It was a cold and barren moon, dominated by jagged mountains and an oppressive stillness that consumed the air itself. Among the peaks of its largest mountain, hidden from the galaxy's prying eyes, stood a fortress of imposing proportions. The structure seemed more carved from the mountain than built upon it, its sharp angles and dark surfaces blending seamlessly with the unforgiving rock around it. Black durasteel walls rose from the base, layered with reinforcements designed to repel orbital bombardments and sabotage alike.

The base was a hive of disciplined activity. Sun Guards, clad in black ceremonial armor, patrolled its walkways and watchtowers. Each guard stood tall and imposing, their segmented plating providing full coverage while remaining lightweight and mobile. Their helmets bore sharp crests, and their visors glowed faintly red, a predatory hue that pierced through the gloom. They carried blasters slung across their backs, while one-meter double-edged vibroblades hung from their hips, their polished hilts gleaming faintly in the fortress's dim artificial lighting. These warriors did not speak, nor did they need to. Their movements were precise and deliberate, as though they were extensions of the fortress itself.

On the western side of the base, a landing platform extended precariously over a steep drop. The platform, reinforced with durasteel beams, was illuminated by dim guide lights along its edges, casting long shadows that flickered in the faint light of Sojourn's distant star. Above, a ship descended from the darkness.

The Scimitar came into view as it approached the platform. Its hull was sharp and angular, designed for stealth and efficiency. The ship's spearhead-like fuselage reflected no light, its matte-gray finish blending with the void. Its curved solar panels retracted inward as it prepared to land, giving it the appearance of a predator folding its wings. Steam hissed as its repulsorlifts activated, guiding it down onto the platform with precise control. The landing ramp extended from its underside with a mechanical hiss, locking into place.

A tall figure, clad in flowing black robes, approached the ship. His gait was deliberate, his presence commanding. The faint glow of lights caught the edges of his hood, but his face remained obscured in shadow. Behind him, a small group of Sun Guards followed, their heavy boots clinking against the durasteel surface. The figure came to a halt as the ramp fully lowered, his cloak settling behind him.

From the ship, another hooded figure emerged. This one moved slower, stepping onto the platform with measured precision. He descended the ramp and knelt immediately upon reaching the bottom. His voice, hoarse and deliberate, broke the silence.

"It is done, my master. I have gathered the materials required for the ritual. The ship performed flawlessly—its capabilities are unmatched."

The taller figure paused, his voice calm and measured as he finally spoke. "You have done well. The time has come. Follow me."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and began walking toward the fortress. The kneeling man rose swiftly and followed, his steps hurried but precise. The Sun Guards dispersed silently, resuming their patrols with military efficiency.

Inside the fortress, the air was sterile, carrying the faint hum of generators and automated systems embedded in its walls. The corridors were long and featureless, constructed of blackened durasteel reinforced with thick phrik plating. Dim crimson lighting strips ran along the ceiling and floors, casting an eerie red glow that illuminated their path.

The pair walked in silence, passing rows of laboratories encased in thick transparisteel. Inside, figures in black uniforms worked methodically, monitoring experiments displayed on holographic readouts. Dissection tables held alien specimens in various states of vivisection, their limbs suspended in glowing green stasis fields. In one lab, mechanical arms meticulously removed tissue samples from a creature that no longer resembled its original form, injecting its remains with glowing fluids contained in silver canisters.

As they moved deeper into the fortress, the polished durasteel walls began to give way to rough-hewn stone. The air grew colder, and the passage narrowed before opening into a massive underground chamber.

The cavern was vast, its walls carved from the rock itself. Ancient Sith runes lined the surfaces, their angular shapes glowing faintly red in the dim light. At the chamber's center stood a pedestal of polished obsidian, its surface smooth and reflective. Surrounding it, the ground was marked with concentric rings of runes, their designs impossibly intricate. The faint hum of power resonated in the room, vibrating through the air.

The taller figure stopped at the edge of the ritual circle, turning to face his companion. His voice, calm but authoritative, echoed through the cavern.

"Today, we will achieve what non other sith have achived before. We will bend the force to our will. Through it, we will create life itself—a true vessel of the dark side. A being of pure power."

The shorter man bowed his head slightly, his voice steady. "Yes, my master."

"Then let us begin," the taller man said, gesturing toward the pedestal.

The apprentice stepped forward, withdrawing a blood-red kyber crystal from his robes. Its jagged surface glinted faintly in the dim light, the veins within pulsing as though alive. He placed it carefully on the pedestal, then removed a small pouch covered in Sith glyphs. The pouch emitted a faint vibration, resonating with the energy in the chamber. After placing it beside the crystal, the apprentice stepped back, lowering himself to one knee at the edge of the circle.

The taller man raised his hands, his long fingers curling as he began to chant. His voice, low and guttural, resonated deeply in the cavern. The apprentice joined in, their voices blending into an unnatural harmony. The Sith runes etched into the walls and floor began to glow brighter, their pulsing light intensifying with every syllable spoken.

The crystal atop the pedestal began to glow, shifting from deep red to an icy blue. The air thickened, vibrating with an unseen force that pressed against their bodies. The apprentice clenched his fists, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he concentrated.

"Focus," the taller man commanded sharply. "The Force is chaos. You must impose your will upon it."

The apprentice gritted his teeth, his hands trembling as he channeled his strength into the ritual. The runes flared brighter, and arcs of blue lightning crackled across the chamber, leaping from the crystal to the walls. The energy swirled above the pedestal, forming a vortex of light that twisted violently.

The taller man's voice grew louder, his words filled with authority. "You will submit. Your will bends to mine!"

The energy intensified, the vortex spiraling out of control. The apprentice faltered, blood dripping from his nose as the strain overwhelmed him. The taller man, undeterred, raised his arms higher, his voice booming through the cavern.

"Submit!"

With a deafening crack, the vortex collapsed, and the energy dissipated. The crystal dimmed, its glow fading to nothing. The runes on the walls and floor dimmed as well, their light retreating back into darkness.

The apprentice dropped to one knee, his body trembling under the strain. His hood fell back, revealing slicked-back, fiery red hair that clung to his scalp from sweat. His pale, sharp-featured face was taut, with sunken cheeks and an angular jawline that accentuated his gaunt appearance. Yellow eyes, ringed with red, glowed faintly under the dim lighting, their intensity cutting through the darkness. His thin lips were drawn tight, and his temples throbbed visibly, veins standing out stark against his pallid skin.

The taller man regarded him for a moment before speaking, his tone cold and analytical. "We have failed."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The apprentice remained kneeling, his fists clenched in quiet fury.

Nine Months Later: Tatooine

The skies above Tatooine churned with black clouds, an unnatural storm unlike anything the desert world had ever seen. Rain poured in heavy torrents, turning the dry sands into thick mud. Lightning illuminated the endless dunes in sharp, brief flashes, while thunder rolled across the horizon like a massive drumbeat.

Inside a rusted medical facility, a woman screamed in agony, her body writhing on a makeshift cot. The room was small and filthy, its walls corroded with sand and grime. A skeletal medical droid, its joints creaking with age, hovered over her. Its photoreceptors flickered faintly as it adjusted its position.

"Subject entering final stage of labor. Prepare for delivery," the droid intoned in a flat, mechanical voice.

The woman screamed again, her hands gripping the edges of the cot as her body convulsed. The droid extended its multi-jointed arms, its tools moving with mechanical precision.

"Push," it instructed monotonously. "Pain is within acceptable parameters. Continue."

The storm outside intensified, the wind howling like a living creature. Mercenaries stationed near the facility huddled together, their faces tense.

"Storm? On Tatooine?" one muttered. "This isn't right. It doesn't rain here."

The woman gave one final, desperate push, and the infant emerged. The droid caught the child in its clawed hands, scanning it briefly before wrapping it in a tattered blanket.

"Subject viable. Mother stable," it announced before retreating.

The woman, weak but smiling faintly, cradled the child in her arms. "Anakin," she whispered. "Your name will be Anakin"