"Juno!"

A black-gloved hand grabbed his shoulder. He pulled away, howling with rage. His fallen lightsabers snapped into his hands and came instantly to life. With both blades moving in tandem, he struck out at his former Master using all his strength, all his rage, all his grief. Darth Vader blocked the blow, but only just. Starkiller pushed, and the Dark Lord stumbled backward.

Instead of pursuing the attack, Starkiller went to go to Juno, but once again Darth Vader stood in his path.

"Get out of my way. "

"Your feelings for her are not real, " Vader said, nor moving.

"They are real to me. "

Starkiller attacked the Dark Lord again, but this time he was the one driven back.

With a sense of piercing despair, he saw exactly how the fight would go. He and his former Master would dance like marionettes while Juno lay dying-if she wasn't already dead-and the war raged around them, unchecked by this minor tragedy. In the context of the galaxy's suffering, Juno was just one freedom fighter who had died that day-one among many on Kamino alone. Only she hadn't given her life in combat or to save someone less fortunate than herself. She had been snuffed out thanks to the manipulations of one single tortured man, a man whose stubbornness would never allow him to give up, admit fault, or compromise.

Starkiller knew nothing about the Dark Lord's origins, but he knew what he had become. More monolith than man, his shadow bestrode the Empire, casting darkness wherever it fell. But what was the source of that scourge? What twisted psychology had brought him to where he stood now-risking his life to prevent the clone of his failed apprentice from coming near the body of the woman he had loved?

Sudden understanding burst in Starkiller's mind. This was what Darth Vader had wanted all along. He had been right to fear that Juno was in danger, but not just from clones like him-from Vader, who would use her death to destabilize Starkiller and lead him headlong back to the dark side via anger and despair. Where Starkiller had seen hope, where Starkiller had been willing to sacrifice his own destiny to give the woman he had loved a chance to live, his former Master had seen only opportunity for betrayal- for without Juno, what did Starkiller have left to live and fight for? He had no family, friends, or allies. Juno was always intended to be the catalyst for his downfall. Her precipitous attack had merely brought the critical moment forward.

Starkiller saw things very differently. It wasn't Juno who had to die to complete Starkiller's training. It was Darth Vader himself, and he had brought this moment upon himself. Had he been content to let Starkiller go, none of this would have happened. Were he dead or freely searching for Juno, either way, he would never have willingly come back to Kamino. He would have gone anywhere else, and never returned.

Darth Vader simply wouldn't let go. The massive cloning exercise itself was proof of that. He had raised Starkiller to be a monster, and he would let nothing get in the way of achieving that outcome. Not even Starkiller's own death. Even if it took a thousand reincarnations and the death of trillions of innocent people, Darth Vader would not give up. His persistence, his unwillingness to accept defeat, was both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

All the clones were destroyed. As far as Starkiller knew, he was the last one left-so that was one vision averted, at least. No matter what happened, no version of him would hill foul of Darth Vader's vile plan now.

They fought like the Sith Lords of old, raging back and forth across the roof of the spire, uncaring what happened around them. Starkiller maintained his efforts to get to Juno, and Darth Vader did everything in his power to stop him. Neither would capitulate. Neither would be the first to break. Their wills were locked.

They broke apart, lightsabers hissing in the ceaseless rain. Lightning split the sky into a thousand jagged shapes. Thunder rolled. Neither had noticed the battle fading around them.

"Let me go, " Starkiller said, sounding much calmer than he felt. His heart was pounding, and his lungs burned. "You've taken everything from me. You must see that I will never serve you now. "

"You are wrong. I have given you everything. "

"This?" He gestured at Juno's inert form. He couldn't tell if she was breathing, but he still held out a distant hope. "You have done nothing for me. "

"It is our destiny to destroy the Emperor. You and me, together. "

There it was, Starkiller thought. That promise again. Surely Darth Vader could see that it meant nothing now, after so many times offered in the past, and none of them fulfilled?

Unless... A deeper layer of understanding presented itself. Unless Darth Vader felt exactly the same as he did.

What lengths had the Emperor, Darth Vader's Master, gone to in order to create him? And how far would Darth Vader go to get revenge? To attain his own destiny as a Sith?

"The Rebels want to destroy the Emperor, " Starkiller said. "Why not work with them rather th-?"

Vader attacked before he could finish the sentence, a blistering combination of blows that left Starkiller on his back foot. Clearly he had hit a very deep nerve. For a fleeting moment, the plan had seemed almost inspired. With Darth Vader on Kota's side, what couldn't the Alliance accomplish?

But it was a dream. The Rebels would never trust the Emperor's apprentice, and Vader was making it very clear that he wanted no part of it either. The vehemence of his response left no doubt about that.

Starkiller found himself backed up almost to the edge of the cloning spire's roof. One more step, and he would fall, and to fall would give Vader the high ground. That might not result in his death, but it would certainly end the fight.

It needed to end now, or else it might never end.

Blow after blow rained on him, forcing him back. There had to be a way to free himself and avenge Juno at the same time... but a stalemate seemed unavoidable. Any move he made was sure to lead him to an indefensible position.

Then it occurred to him. An indefensible position was exactly what he needed.

He lunged. Darth Vader saw him coming and swiped with unbearable strength, sending Starkiller's left lightsaber flying in pieces. Starkiller lunged again, and his right lightsaber joined his left. He fell back, beaten, and stared up at his former Master.

"This is your last chance, " Vader said, standing over him with the unwavering tip of his lightsaber pointed directly at Starkiller's chest.

Starkiller stared up at the black mask, sure of two things. Vader didn't want to kill him, but not out of mercy or sympathy for his lot. The Dark Lord had invested far too much time and energy in re-creating his former apprentice, and he wouldn't want to throw all that away. Not when he seemed on the verge of victory.

Juno was dead or dying. Starkiller was disarmed and helpless.

Any rational being would at least consider Vader's offer.

The second thing Starkiller knew was: The best way to beat Darth Vader is to let him think he's won.

Thinking of Wedge Antilles, he said, "I make my own chances. "

With both hands he sent a wave of lightning into the sparking gash Juno had made in Vader's chest plate.

The Dark Lord staggered backward, transfixed by the unexpected retaliation. Starkiller leapt to his feet and followed him, keeping up the lightning attack and using telekinesis to rip Vader's lightsaber from his temporarily weakened fingers. Sheers of energy spread our across the wet rooftop. Smoke and steam rose up in a tortured spiral. The grating whine of Vader's respirator rook on a desperate edge.

He went down on one knee. Starkiller stood over him. Vader's lightsaber swept into his former apprentice's hand. The blade came to rest at his throat.

Starkiller stared into the black mask, breathing heavily. One twitch of the blade and Vader would be dead at last.

"Wait, " said a voice from behind him.

Starkiller froze, remembering his vision of being stabbed in the back. But the other clones were dead. And like the owner of this unexpected voice, he didn't need to look to see what was in fact occurring.

Booted feet splashed in the water as Kota and members of his squad ran up the ramp and surrounded him, training their guns on Vader. Starkiller didn't move. He kept the lightsaber at Vader's neck, ready to finish what Vader himself had starred.

"Why wait?" he asked. "You want him dead as much as I do. "

"Yes, of course. " There was no hiding the venom in the general's voice. "But not yet. Not until he's told us the Empire's secrets. "

"You want to take him prisoner?"

"To a hidden Rebel base where we can interrogate him, put him on trial for crimes against the true Republic. " Starkiller felt Kota's hand on his shoulder. "And then we'll execute him, to show the galaxy that we don't need to fear him any longer. "

For several seconds the only sounds came from Vader's wheezing respirator and the storm around them. Water ran down Starkiller's face in rippling streams. Kota's hand gripped him tightly, and it wasn't entirely a gesture of reassurance. There was warning in it, too.

Kota didn't understand. Starkiller was under no threat of the dark side. He wouldn't turn evil just by killing Vader.

"If I let him live, " Starkiller said, "he'll haunt me forever. "

The general came in closer and spoke in a whisper only Starkiller could hear. "Remember this: Vader is the only one who knows if and how you survived. He can't tell you if you are the original you if he is dead. "

Starkiller looked at Kota. The general's face showed no sign of dissemblance. He meant everything he said, even though it pained him. Under any other circumstances, Kota would have relished killing Vader himself, but here he was arguing against it, with one hand on his lightsaber hilt to show that he meant business.

Starkiller looked at Vader, kneeling in the rain with his own lightsaber at his throat, waiting for Starkiller to complete his training and do what Vader had never been able to do himself: kill his own Master.

Either way, Starkiller thought, I've beaten him.

That was the only thing left that mattered.

Chapter 25