Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6677377.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_-_All_Media_Types, Star_Wars_Prequel_Trilogy, Star_Wars_Legends
      -_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Darth_Maul, Kit_Fisto/OFC, Darth_Maul/Kilindi_Matako/
      Daleen, Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Siri_Tachi_(past), Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Satine_Kyrze_
      (past), Dooku_&_Qui-Gon_Jinn, Qui-Gon_Jinn/OFC_(past), Obi-Wan_Kenobi_&
      Anakin_Skywalker, Mother_Talzin/Brother_Viscus
  Character:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi, Darth_Maul, Qui-Gon_Jinn, Darth_Sidious, Sade_Naberrie_|
      Doc_(OFC), Kit_Fisto, Mace_Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Yoda, Dooku_(Star_Wars),
      Brother_Viscus, Sister_Kualu_(OFC), Mother_Talzin, Quinlan_Vos, Siri
      Tachi, A'Sharad_Hett, Anakin_Skywalker, Padmé_Amidala, Grievous_|_Qymaen
      jai_Sheelal, Hego_Damask_|_Darth_Plagueis, Kilindi_Matako, Daleen, Savage
      Opress, Feral_(Star_Wars), OFC, Eoghan_Truax_(Star_Wars), OMC, Jedi
      Padawan_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Nightsisters_(Star_Wars), Past_Child_Abuse, Canon-Typical_Violence,
      Sexual_Abuse, Sidious_is_a_horrible_person, Slavery, Post-Traumatic
      Stress_Disorder_-_PTSD, some_really_messed_up_stuff, headcanons,
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Expanded_Universe, Jedi_Temple,
      Jedi_Knights, Jedi_Code, Gray_Jedi, down_with_dogma, kind_of_hospital
      drama, Speciesism, Politics, Anti-Hero, Mind_Rape, Force_Bond_(Star
      Wars), Near_Death_Experiences, Canonical_Character_Death, Enemies_to
      Friends_to_Lovers, Slow_Burn, m/m_-_Freeform, Threesome_-_F/F/M, there_is
      slash, Sexual_Content, Unconventional_Families, Ritual_Sex, Kaleesh_War,
      Kaleesh, balance_of_the_force, f/m_-_Freeform, Grief/Mourning, Emotional
      Hurt/Comfort
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-27 Updated: 2018-03-02 Chapters: 16/? Words: 96778
****** Breaking the Chains, Forging the Links ******
by Sereq_ieh_Dashret
Summary
     TPM AU. Maul and Obi-Wan both fall into the chute in the Royal Palace
     of Theed. As they are forced to collaborate to get out of the tunnels
     alive, they both realise that things are not necessarily has they had
     been told and that the truth is much more complicated. Some chains
     imprison, but some links make you stronger. Eventual slash, but it's
     very slow burn.
     Originally posted on FF.net
Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     After reading "Lockdown" and watching the two final seasons of Clone
     Wars, this almost started to write itself on its own.
     It's hard to read/watch anything involving Darth Maul without feeling
     even a bit of sympathy towards him.
     Child soldier? Check.
     Parental abandonement? Check.
     Life-changing injury? Check.
     And the list goes on...
     So here is an AU where he can experience some positive interactions
     and find a bit of peace.
     Will eventually be Maul/Obi-Wan (rather slow burn), but there will be
     plenty of other relationships and interactions in the meantime.
     This references a lot of Expanded Universe material (Lockdown,
     Restraint, Darth Plagueis and the old Dark Horse Comics, just to name
     a few), as well as info that only came out in Clone Wars and the Son
     of Dathomir comic. I Wookiepediaed stuff like crazy to make sure I
     had things right, but I also twisted things around a bit to make my
     points.
     More tags will be added as the story progresses.
***** Down *****
It had all happened in an instant. The Sith assassin butted Master Qui-Gon with
the end of his mutilated double-bladed saber, reversed the grip and plunged the
blade home in the Jedi's midriff, angling it so that it penetrated upwards,
searing a path through the diaphragm and the lungs.
Trapped behind the energy barrier, Obi-Wan yelled in impotent fury. Despite
years of training in the path of the Jedi, despite all the warnings against the
darker emotions he had heard, he could not help feeling a wave of anger and
hate fill him to the brim.
On the other side of the barrier, the Sith was smiling in satisfaction, baring
pointy-looking teeth. His yellow eyes gleamed in his black-and-red face. His
expression and posture clearly said that he was having the time of his life and
could't wait for more to come.
"Come on, little Padawan, don't you want to avenge your master?" he taunted,
pacing back and forth in front of the barrier, like a big cat on the prowl.
"I'll kill you!" Obi-Wan bellowed, tossing all restraint to the wind.
"You might try..." replied the Sith, with a broader smile.
As if by magic, the energy barrier suddenly disappeared with a whirring sound.
Obi-Wan roared and launched himself at his smiling foe. He had to be quick if
he wanted to save his Master's life yet.
The Sith however, was undaunted by his display of fury and fended him off
almost lazily with the remaining blade of his saber. Obi-Wan redoubled his
efforts in desperation, allowing his form to become sloppy to gain extra speed
and try to find an opening in his foe's defenses.
That was a capital mistake, he realised, as the Sith kicked his saber away from
his grasp and, profiting from his imbalance, partly kicked him, partly Force-
pushed him back into the waste-pit.
It was only thanks to quick reflexes and sheer luck that he managed to hold
onto a sensor projecting from the metal-clad wall.
A foot or so above him, the Sith was again prowling, as if considering his next
move, his lightsaber loosely dangling from his grasp and oscillating back and
forth, like the tail of an irritated cat. Obi-Wan struggled to find a foothold,
even a slight chink in the cladding, to heave himself up, all the while bracing
himself for the finishing downward thrust that was sure to come.
He looked up and briefly caught the eye of his foe. As strange as it might
seem, he looked not at all satisfied, even a little tacken aback, like a
housecat who realises he has broken too soon the back of the mouse he had been
toying with.
"Come on, little Padawan, is this all you've got?" the Sith asked, trailing his
saber along the rim of the pit and showering him with sparks.
"Good thing your Master is dead then... What a shame..." he added with a wide
grin.
A red veil descended over Obi-Wan's eyes and somehow his anger gave him the
strength to Force-jump like never before, somersaulting over his perplexed
foe's horned head and landing on firm ground behind him. The Sith had barely
time to turn, before a well-aimed roundhouse kick spun the saber away from his
grip. Seamlessly, Obi-Wan pulled his Master's lightsaber into his hand,
activated it with barely a thought and a flick of the wrist and slashed with
all his might, aiming at the Sith's midsection and hoping to make as much
damage as possible.
The light-blade sliced through flesh with a dull sizzle, and the Sith's face
contorted into a grimace of shock and pain. He had somehow managed to partially
dodge the blow and avoid being cut in half at the waist, however Obi-Wan's
lightsaber had very nearly disembowelled him.
The Sith teetered on the edge of the pit, doubling up and almost collapsing in
pain, and the full weight of what he had done hit the young Padawan: he had
raised his blade in anger, seeking revenge for a personal grudge. He had
defated a much more skilled foe, but the triumph tasted like ashes in his
mouth.
Still struggling to stand, the defeated Sith stumbled backwards, almost tipping
into the pit.
Lost in contemplation of his fault, Obi-Wan instinctively reached out with his
hand and the Sith grasped it with his gloved one.
"You're coming with me..." the Sith rasped, intentionally propelling himself
backwards.
Caught off-balance, Obi-Wan could not mount any efficient response and fell
hurtling into the void, still holding his opponent's hand.
Obi-Wan awoke to the sound of something shuffling near him. Disoriented, he
stuggled to sit up. His body felt sore all over and his head felt as heavy as a
ton of bricks.
He opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings, a wasteland of broken and
disused junk and organic refuse, from dismantled droids to rotten carcasses of
dogs and kitchen waste. The ceiling was low and metal-clad, rounded like a
vault and mostly lost in the shadows of the scarce lighting. The air was
oppressively hot and humid and reeked like rust, mold and putrefaction.
Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear it and identify his surroundings. He
remembered fighting, giving in to his anger and then a pair of taunting yellow
eyes widening in horror and disbelief.
And then the rush of air all around him and the desperate bid to alter their
course, away from the plasma reactor down below...
The pit! His foe must have succeeded in pulling him in as he fell, he realised,
just as something hard hit him over the head and something heavy fell upon him,
growling savagely.
Instinctively, with his vision blackening from the force of the blow, Obi-Wan
rolled with the blow and planted his feet, trying to throw his attacker over
his head, whoever they might be. They screamed in pain as they landed awkwardly
a few feet away. Obi-Wan blinked repeatedly and shook his head again and his
attacker picked itself up, panting and whimpering.
By the faint light of the service lighting, the Padawan watched in horrified
fascination as the Sith he had nearly cut in half not long before tried to rise
to his feet, holding a length of pipe in one hand and trying to keep his
intestines in with the other.
He should not be able to do this, Obi-Wan thought fuzzily.
He barely pulled himself together in time to avoid the clumsy but powerful
blow. Obi-Wan extended a leg and tripped the Sith, sending him sprawling on the
refuse-covered ground. A kick sent the pipe flying away from his weakened
grasp, but the Sith still had some fight left in him, even if Obi-Wan didn't
understand how.
Screaming in pain and anger, he launched himself at Obi-Wan's legs, pulling him
to the ground, and frantically tried to strangle him, or bash his head in with
any piece of refuse he could find, or his own bare hands.
Obi-Wan had a hard time fending off the savage onslaught and only little by
little, using every bit of training and discipline he could muster, he managed
to force his foe against the floor.
Even then, the only way he had to finally subdue him and make him stop
struggling once and for all was to basically sit on him and apply pressure on
the terrible wound in his stomach. The Sith howled in agony, arching back and
struggling to escape from the pain, then his body relaxed as he most likely
passed out from the sheer suffering. Obi-Wan felt like throwing up from the
mere idea of what he was doing, but there was no other way.
As soon as the struggle stopped, he relieved the pressure and sat back,
blocking the Sith's legs with his weigth and pinning his wrists to the ground
with his feet.
His breath came in hard pants and gasps from the exertion of the savage fight
and his whole body was covered in sweat.
Even horribly wounded, the Sith had given it as good as he got, as his probably
broken nose could attest. Blood was slowly dripping on his face and was smeared
on his hands and clothes.
What was he supposed to do now? If he let him free there was the concrete
possibility that the Sith would try again to attack him. The easiest solution
would be to kill him, smother him with his bare hands, or bash his head in with
some piece of rubble, or plunge that shard of ceramic over there into a staring
yellow eye.
Returned to consciousness, the Sith arched his neck and tilted his horned head
to follow his gaze. He deliberately relaxed as he turned his gaze towards the
Padawan.
"Do it." he said, as if it dis not really matter. His voice was thick and rough
with pain and his breath laboured, but his expression was surprisingly
accepting for one who had just been struggling like a man possessed until a
moment before.
Feeling deeply ashamed of his thoughts, Obi-Wan averted his gaze. How could
have he thought of killing a man, even an enemy, in cold blood? Thoughts like
those led unerringly to the Dark Side.
"Do it! - the Sith repeated, more forcefully - Come on, little Padawan, I know
you want it. I've seen it in your eyes." he panted with a wry smile on his
lips.
Obi-Wan shook his head and closed his eyes. Now that he had realised what he
had been about to do, there was no way he could give in to the temptation.
"Come on, you spineless bastard! - the Sith cursed- I've killed your precious
Master. I'm what you hate most. Come on! Avenge your Master. Grow a pair and
kill me!" he exclaimed trying to struggle again, but much more weakly than
before.
At his words, Obi-Wan felt the red veil obscuring his vision once again. It
would be so easy to give in to temptation, no one would need to know about what
happened there in the dark. The Sith would be dead and his master would be
avenged, what mattered if he had killed him during their duel or afterwards?
"No! " he yelled eventually, the sound echoing under the vaulted roof. He
unwittingly infused his words with enough Force to make the superficial layer
of refuse on the ground near them scatter away. The Sith's yellow eyes widened
in surprise.
"Are you so eager to die?" Obi-Wan growled, keeping his anger at bay.
The Sith shook his head. "I would have preferred to kill you, but I can't now,
can I? - he rasped, gritting his teeth against the pain - I've been defeated,
I've failed my Master, death is nothing more than what I deserve." he added in
a totally matter-of-fact way.
Obi-Wan stared at him in disbelief. Did he really walue his own life so little
to be totally indifferent to his own death?
"I won't give it to you." he replied with determination.
The Sith sighed and closed his eyes. "What do you plan to do with me then?" he
asked wearily.
"This is not for me to decide. - he replied - You are a prisoner of the Jedi
Council, it is for them to decide about your fate."
The Sith laughed a wry little laugh. "I highly doubt there will be much left
for them to decide." he commented dryly.
"Why?" Obi-Wan asked, arching an eyebrow in perplexity.
The Sith sighed again. "Do you realise you've gutted me like a fish and that
we've been rolling in filth until now? - he said as if explaining a simple
concept to a not overly bright child - If the wound does not kill me, the
infection will. I'm a dead man walking. It would be easier for us both if you
would just kill me now."
"Sorry, but this is not an option. We'll have to do this the hard way." Obi-Wan
replied.
"Damn you and your rules, Jedi! - the Sith cursed, banging the back of his head
against the floor in frustration - This is bloody ridiculous!"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "If I free your hands, will you keep on fighting me?" he
asked, considering his next move.
The Sith appeared to ponder the question for a moment, then sighed. "I've
hardly got any fight left in me." he said wryly.
The Padawan nodded. "Good." he said and let go of his foe's wrists to pat at
his utility belt in search of his commlink. The apparatus appeared to have
miraculously survived the fall and he quickly tapped the code of the commander
of the palace guards.
"What are you doing?" the Sith asked. True to his word, he had not tried
anything funny yet and had just lain there, breathing shallowly.
"Calling for help. If only this damned thing would work..." Obi-Wan replied,
gritting his teeth in frustration at the lack of any response from the machine.
Evidently something must have stopped working even in the absence of visible
damage.
"It won't work. - the Sith said - We're far below ground where the signal from
the netlink of the palace cannot reach us."
"Damn it! - Obi-Wan cursed - We'll have to move towards the exit to find the
signal." He stood up, for all intents and purposes freeing the Sith, who
however did not move.
"We?" he simply asked, arching an eyebrow. He struggled to prop himself on an
elbow and stared at the Jedi with a confused expression.
"Right... - Obi-Wan sighed, mentally slapping himself. The Sith was not going
to go anywhere with that wound - OK, let's do it like this: I'll go and find
help. You stay here good and quiet. I'll come and pick you up as soon as I can,
alright?"
On the Sith's patterned visage appeared an expression of genuine panic. "No! -
he exclaimed - You can't do this! Kill me instead! I'd rather have any other
death than be left here to feed the scavengers!"
"The scavengers?" Obi-Wan repeated, uncomprehending. The Sith just nodded,
clearly alarmed and struggling to sit up.
As if on cue, something rustled among the rubbish and Obi-Wan imagined he could
distinguish red-gleaming eyes in the darkness. Scavengers, rats most likely,
but probably also something worse. He'd heard some pretty disgusting stories
about what a swarm of rats could do to a child or a wounded man when in a
feeding frenzy. The mere thought was enough to make him nauseous.
"Force help me!" he whispered under his breath, digging his hands in his hair.
The Sith had managed to somehow crawl towards the wall and was trying to
leverage himself up in a franctic effort. "I can walk." he said, wide-eyed.
"You'll have to." sighed Obi-Wan, hunkering down next to him and stilling him
with a hand on his shoulder. The Sith stiffened and seemed on the verge of a
violent reaction.
"Easy there! - Obi-Wan said, taking his hand off him - That wound needs to be
seen to, before you can try to walk."
The Sith forced himself to relax and nodded, swallowing hard. He was not
looking forward to having it done, but neither was Obi-Wan. He had been trained
in first aid, but that was very much outside his area of competence. He had
first-aid bacta-pack in one of his pockets, but it was pitifully small and had
nothing he could actually use as bandages.
"Can you sit up?" he asked.
The Sith nodded and complied with an agonised grimace. Obi-Wan quickly untied
the two layers of the Sith's robe, uncovering more red-and-black patterned skin
and a huge, gaping wound. Thankfully the blade had cauterised it, so that it
wasn't bleeding too much, but still... He quickly averted his eyes, unwittingly
meeting the Sith's yellow gaze.
"You're still in time to change idea." the Sith said in a soft, strained voice.
Obi-Wan shook his head and produced the bacta-pack, tearing the packaging with
his teeth. For a moment, the strong, pungent smell of antiseptic overpowered
the stench of refuse.
"I've got one too." the Sith said, handing him another small package from one
of his pockets. Combining the two, he would have barely enough to thinly cover
the wound.
"This is going to hurt." Obi-Wan warned.
The Sith nodded and lay back against the wall. "I know. Do it already. It won't
get any better for waiting." he replied impatiently.
Obi-Wan acquiesced and set to his task. He tried to be as gentle as possible,
but between how deep the wound was and the fact that the ointment burned even
on shallow grazes, he knew he was causing his prisoner an enormous amount of
pain. The Sith closed his eyes and arched his back, baring his sharp teeth in a
grimace of agony. His left fist was beating on the floor and tears were
streaming out of the corners of his eyes, but apart from his shallow, panting
breaths, no sound was escaping his lips.
Obi-Wan finished as quickly as he managed and took his own outer layers off,
wiping his blood-caked hands on them and discarding them on the floor. Thanking
the Force for always feeling slightly cold, he took off his undershirt and
packed it against the wound. It was the only remotely clean thing he could
improvise a bandage with.
The Sith manged to open his eyes again and a quiet whimper escaped his lips at
the slight pressure.
"Nearly done. - Obi-Wan tried to reassure him - If I use your sash to tie the
bandage, will your trousers fall off? Because mine would, you know?" he added
unnecessarily, hoping to distract him from the pain.
The Sith expelled a quiet laugh. "Go for it." he allowed.
Obi-Wan tried to smile reassuringly and untied the sash from the Sith's waist
and re-wrapped it slightly higher, hoping to keep the inner bandage in position
and his bowels in.
"All done. - he announced, as cheerily as he could muster as he donned his
tunic and jacket once more- How are you feeling?"
The Sith rolled his eyes and shook his head at the absurdity of the question.
"Still alive, for now." he replied.
"Can you stand?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Do I have any choice?" the other replied.
The Jedi shook his head.
"Thought so." the Sith commented with sarcasm, trying again to haul himself to
his feet with the help of the wall. Obi-Wan could tell that the manouver was
causing him a lot of discomfort. He would never ask a Jedi for help, even of ot
cost him his life, Obi-Wan could well imagine it, his pride would not allow it.
If he wanted to prevent the prisoner from suffering needlessly for his
stubborness he had to offer his help on his own accord.
"Here, lean on me." he offered, approaching his wounded foe and setting his
left arm over his own shoulder. The Sith tried to avoid the contact, recoiling
slightly towards the wall.
"I don't need your help." he lied.
"I know. - Obi-Wan acquiesced nonetheless - Just humour me, will you? We need
to get out of here as soon as we can."
The Sith nodded almost imperceptibly and set part of his weigth upon Obi-Wan's
shoulders. Bracing upon him and the wall both, the Sith managed to get his feet
under him and push himself up with his legs, panting with exertion. He wobbled
and staggered but managed to hold himself upright seemingly by sheer force of
will.
"Do you need a breather?" Obi-Wan asasked, concerned.
The Sith shook his head. "Let's go." he rasped, digging his fingers in the
Jedi's shoulder and clawing at the wall with his other hand. Obi-Wan wrapped
his right arm around the Sith's waist, steadying him and slowly, painstakingly,
the odd couple began to advance, step by painful step.
***** Walking Through Hell *****
Chapter Notes
     Maul starts to realise that things are not necessarily as his master
     told him.
     Warning: mild language and implied gore.
As they walked quietly down the tunnel, Obi-Wan tried to ignore the physical
nearness to his charge and he had the impression that the Sith was doing his
best to ignore it too.
It was not easy though: even though it was just where the Sith's patterned arm
rested on his shoulder, rising just above the collar of his untied tunic, and
where his own hand rested against the man's side, where his tunic had ridden
up, this was probably the most skin-to-skin contact he'd ever had since
childhood. The Sith's patterned skin was smooth and warm, much warmer than a
human's would be. He wracked his brains trying to recall exactly what had been
said during his first aid lessons. There was little doubt that the Sith was a
Zabrak, the horns and the penchant for tattoos was a dead giveaway, and they
were supposed to run slightly hotter than humans. The Sith's skin felt really
quite hot, but there was no way of telling if it was because of some weird
stuff the Dark Side had done to him, or because an infection was already
settling in.
Obi-Wan tried not to think about it and tapped into the Force, scanning their
surroundings for presences. The tunnel was quiet except for the Sith's harsh
breathing, but as they trudged along he could feel several hungry somethings
shadowing them. They were not Dark or evil, just mindless. To them, anything
organic that entered their tunnels, be it alive or dead, was food.
From the acceleration of his breath and heartbeat, Obi-Wan could tell that the
Sith was aware of their presence and did not like it anymore than he did,
possibly less.
The Jedi extended his perception towards him: to his mind's eye, he appeared
for a moment as a black shadow, coursed by ruddy sparks of anger and pain.
The Sith forcefully ejected him, using so much of himself to do it, that he
stumbled, catching himself against the wall with a growl.
"Stay out of my head!" he snarled defensively.
Feeling his head ache slightly from the blow, Obi-Wan nodded. He really should
not have done that: the Sith was so weak that he could barely keep his mental
shields up and walk at the same time. He really did not want to see what was
inside a Sith's mind.
"Sorry. - he said- I didn't mean to... Nevermind, we must keep moving." he
added, changing topic. He felt guilty about unwittingly exploiting his
weakness. Judging from his proud demeanor, it must be really uncomfortable for
him to feel weak, especially in front of an enemy.
After a while, however, the silence in the tunnels became oppressive and Obi-
Wan caught himself twitching at every small rustle, imagining a swarm of
ravenous rats ready to pounce on them at every turn.
"What's your name again?" he asked the Sith, just to break the silence.
"I didn't tell you." he replied curtly, barely glancing in his direction.
"Well, tell me then. - the Jedi insisted - What's the difference to you?"
The Sith rolled his eyes. "I'm Darth Maul." he capitulated.
"Maul as in rip stuff to pieces?" Obi-Wan asked.
The Sith nodded, betraying a hint of embarassment.
"Well, I guess it must be cool if you are, you know... like you, I mean..."
Maul looked at him in confusion, arching an eyebrow. Well, Obi-Wan thought
ruefully, as an attempt at idle conversation this has gone swimmingly...
"Nevermind. - he continued, talking to cover his embarassment - I'm..."
"You are Obi-Wan Kenobi and you talk too much." the Sith anticipated.
"How do you know my name?" the Jedi asked, eyes wide in surprise.
Maul tried to shrug. "I had been commissioned a hit on your Master, it made
sense to research you both. Preparation is one of the secrets of victory." he
explained dispassionately.
"A hit? - Obi-Wan repeated and the Sith nodded - You're what? Some sort of pro
killer? So it was just like any other job to you?" he asked, indignant.
Maul shook his horned head. "Not like any other job, not at all. - he replied -
Do you know how long I'd been waiting for the chance to duel a proper Jedi
Master? I've been training for years to be ready for my chance when it would
come. And to duel not just any old Jedi, but Qui-Gonn Jin, a master
swordsman... It was priceless, a true honour." he added with a faraway, almost
dreamy expression.
Obi-Wan blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of the Sith's words. He didn't
know whether they made him angry or just sad.
"So, run this by me again: you admired my Master and you wanted to kill him
anyway?" he asked finally.
"Not kill him. Defeat him in a duel. Sword against sword and may the best man
win." Maul replied as if it made all the difference in the world.
"If I had just wanted to kill him to see him dead, I'd have gunned him down on
Tatooine." he added, grimacing in pain.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "But why?" he asked.
"Because he was a Jedi and I am, well... me, and that's what I am meant to do,
this is my purpose." Maul replied.
"So you were specifically trained to kill Jedi?" Obi-Wan asked.
The Sith nodded. "Yes. This is what my Master wanted from me. He trained me for
all my life for this." he replied.
"You must be really miffed that it was a Padawan like me to defeat you..." he
commented acerbic.
Maul shrugged, or tried to and stopped halfway trough with a soft gasp of pain.
"My fault. I shouldn't have underestimated you, but I would have never imagined
that you would have dipped into the Dark Side to defeat me." he replied.
Obi-Wan lost his breath as surely as if the Sith had given him a punch in the
solar plexus.
"I did not..." he started to argue, feeling a cold sweat creep all over him,
but the Sith cut him short.
"You did. You used your anger to find strength. I know, I do it all the time
and I've seen the signs of it in your eyes." he said with certainty.
Obi-Wan could not find the spirit or the words to reply. It took all his
concentration just to keep on his feet under the blow. He had known it as soon
as it had happened, he just didn't have the courage to admit it even to
himself.
"There is nothing wrong with this. Anger is natural. I had just killed your
Master." the Sith added. Was he trying to console him?
The Jedi shook his head, letting the guilt course through him. "I shouldn't
have let my darker emotions rule me." he protested.
"Let's put it this way: if you had acted all like "I'm a Jedi I've got a
durasteel pipe up my ass" you'd be dead now. I would have killed you. It was
your anger that saved you. - Maul said dispassonately - It gave you the edge
you needed, the occasion to surprise your opponent. Anger is a weapon, you
should use it as any other." he added.
Obi-Wan grimaced and huffed in disapproval.
The Sith sneered, sensing an opening. "You Jedi keep repressing yourselves,
thinking that you are better than everybody else and that your shit does not
stink, but the truth is that you've got darkness inside of you, you just won't
admit it.- he said - Even you've got some in you, little Padawan, and you're so
Light that it hurts. I mean, look at you! I've just killed the most important
person of your life and you're here, trying to save me..." The Sith laughed
quietly to himself, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced.
For one that thought that he talked too much, he had just had a bad case of
motor mouth, Obi-Wan thought. He looked exhausted, though. Probably it was just
the pain talking.
"So what should I do, give in to my darker emotions like a savage beast?" the
Jedi asked provocatively, prolonging the surreal conversation.
"I didn't say that. - Maul said, shaking his head - Emotions are like weapons,
you should master them and use them when they are appropriate. It does't mean
that you need to be controlled by them and it does not mean that you should
pretend you don't feel them at all." he explained.
Obi-Wan pondered over that argument and found to his dismay that it made more
sense than he would have liked.
"Use how?" he asked. Understanding the enemy could only help him defeat it, he
told himself, justifying his curiosity.
"Well, as motivation, and to gain an upper hand in combat. I suppose you need
to understand anger to get your opponent pissed off and careless in a fight,
don't you?"
"Does it work?" Obi-Wan asked, doubtful.
"Not for me, I fear. - the Sith admitted ruefully - I usually get pissed off
much more easily than they do. But it should work in principle. - he insisted -
All that stuff about living in the moment and opening oneself up to feel, why
shouldn't it extend to emotions as well as sensation?"
"Is that what the Sith teach to their apprentices?" asked Obi-Wan, genuinely
interested.
Maul hesitated. "I don't know. - he admitted - My Master doesn't often discuss
the theory with me and I've learned that it is not my place to ask. I thought
this up by myself, probably that's why it does not make much sense." he added
self-deprecatively, lips curling into a smirk.
Obi-Wan laughed softly. "You're quite profound, for a bloodthirsty bastard."
dipping his head in mock-salute.
Maul laughed. It was a surprisingly happy and innocent sound.
"And you've got a sense of humor for a stuck-up... Ah!" he exclaimed,
staggering and doubling up in pain.
"Hey! What happens?" Obi-Wan asked stopping in his tracks to let him recover.
"Shouldn't have laughed..." the Sith rasped, gritting his teeth and squeezing
his eyes shut as the pain gripped him.
"Do you want to sit down?" Obi-Wan offered, concerned. He was feeling exhausted
after the fight, the fall and all the walking, he could only imagine how Maul
must be feeling.
"No! - he replied decisively - If I sit down, I probably won't be able to stand
again." he admitted and the Jedi knew that the admission must have cost him
much.
"That bad?" he asked.
"Worse." Maul replied, leaning his horned head against the wall.
"We'll be out of here soon, it'll be alright. - Obi-Wan tried to reassure him -
Think happy thoughts, like dead kittens... or, don't know, whatever makes you
happy."
The Sith nodded weakly and tried to slow his breathing. "Fighting." he
whispered.
"What?" Obi-Wan asked.
Maul took a deep breath and clawed at the wall with his free hand. "Fighting
makes me happy." he repeated hoarsely.
"Then think about the rematch you could have against me if you survive.- the
Jedi proposed - You could repay me with interests." It didn't make sense, but
in the course of the time they had spent down there in the tunnels, it had
become important to him that the Sith should survive.
"It would be a good fight. - he acquiesced - I'd give you a clean death. A
warrior's death." he added and Obi-Wan understood that it was a sign of
respect, a compliment, somehow.
"Thanks." he said. He had not thought of finding honor, however twisted, among
the Sith.
Maul didn't reply, but somehow managed to straighten up again and push himself
off the wall.
"Let's go. - he whispered - I will not give up yet." he added stubbornly, even
if his skin had paled to a sickly orange under the tattoos and sweat was
beading on his brow.
"Good. - Obi-Wan approved, setting them in motion again- You don't look like a
quitter."
The Sith smirked. "Trying to lure me to the Light with your sweet-talk?" he
asked.
"Force forbid! And lose my nemesis now that I've found one? - he joked - No,
please, don't laugh, I didn't mean it." he hastily added, seeing the Sith's
lips curl into a smile.
Maul restrained himself and shook his head instead. "You are a weird one,
little Padawan." he commented, almost fondly.
"I have a name, you know?" Obi-Wan replied, piqued
"Yes, I know." was all the reply he got.
"And I'm not little. I'm twenty-five." Obi-Wan clarified, rather petulantly.
"Twenty-five. .. - the Sith repeated - Hardly a child, then. On the verge of
investiture, are you? This will be your ticket to knighthood, how you've gone
above and beyond the call of duty and crap like that, won't it just?" he asked
wryly.
"I'm not trying to help you because I'm looking for brownie points!" Obi-Wan
declared, incensed. Why should he care what a Sith thought of him, he did not
know, but nothing was making much sense at that point.
"No, you're doing it because of my charming personality." Maul said, voice
thick with sarcasm.
"Think what you wish of my motives, as long as you keep walking." the Jedi
retorted, irritated.
The Sith shook his head. "Don't get all worked up, Little Padawan. I know
you're so righteous that the Light shines out of your arse. - he commented - By
the way, why don't you turn around and light the tunnel?"
Obi-Wan turned back towards him. "Are you trying to drive me to suicide with
your sense of humour?" he asked, smirking and realising that his irritation had
already vanished.
"I already told you that you are mine to kill, didn't I?" Maul retorted
smirking as well.
"Oh, yes... That's so romantic..." Obi-Wan teased, batting his eyelashes.
Maul stared at him wide-eyed in embarassment. "You have a twisted mind, Jedi."
he protested, slightly taken aback.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I'm just trying not to think about the situation we landed
ourselves into." he explained.
"You'd be out of here much faster of you didn't have to help me." Maul said
calmly.
"I know. We've already been through this." Obi-Wan replied, feeling the
irritation rise again within him.
"I still don't understand why you are doing this. - Maul sighed, shaking his
head - I am your enemy. I will kill you as soon as I have the strength to try."
he added, sounding genuinely confused.
"Just humour my weird Jedi manias, alright? It's already hard enough without
having to argue with you every step of the way." Obi-Wan retorted brusquely.
Maul nodded. "You're right... And don't you try to gloat about this." he
chided, frowning.
Obi-Wan smiled. "Jedi don't gloat. We rejoice." he argued.
"Same diff... Ah, why did there have to be a bloody safety door?!" Maul
exclaimed as they turned the corner, stopping in front of a sealed containment
door.
"Well, shit!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, feeling a cold lump of dread settle in his
stomach.
The steel might have been slightly rusty and crusted with things better left
unsaid, but it was still whole and heavy and forbidding as if it was new.
Maul nodded in agreement. "I don't suppose you still have your saber..." he
asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "It must be at the bottom of the reactor. Together with
yours..."
"Thought so. We'll have to do it the hard way, then." the Sith declared,
starting to move again, towards the control panel of the door.
He stopped next to it and leaned on the wall of the tunnel, letting go of Obi-
Wan's shoulder.
"I can stand. - he reassured - See if you can find anything metal with an
edge."
Obi-Wan gave him a confused look. "What are you trying to do?" he asked.
"If I can open this panel, I may be able to force the door open." Maul
explained.
Obi-Wan nodded and started scanning the ground for suitable instruments.
"That OK?" he asked, handing the Sith what looked like the lid of a can of
spaceship supplies.
Maul turned the object in his hands pensively, then nodded. "This should do the
trick." he assented, jamming the edge of the lid into the groove of one of the
screws holding the panel in place.
"Why is it that there is never a screwdriver when you need it?" the Sith
growled, struggling with the improvised instrument.
"I found another one! - Obi-Wan exclaimed - We'll be quicker if we work
together." he proposed, inching closer to the panel with another piece of
rubbish in his hands.
Maul nodded and Obi-Wan started struggling with a screw of his own. The edge of
the lid kept on slipping out of the groove, scratching the metal casing of the
panel and biting into the meat of his hand.
"I should start adding a screwdriver to my mission kit." he joked, sighing in
relief as the first screw loosened.
"Good idea. - Maul agreed - Works really nice even as a weapon."
Obi-Wan cast him an incredulous glance.
"Haven't you ever tried? - Maul asked, turning momentarily to look at him - It
slips between a man's ribs better than a knife."
"You're full of fun facts, aren't you?" Obi-Wan grunted, shifting to his next
screw.
"Do you mind doing the bottom one? I can't exactly bend." Maul asked, slightly
embarrassed.
"No probs." the Jedi replied, dropping to his knees. Belatedly, he realised
that he was offering a prime target to the prisoner, but Maul didn't seem to
have noticed, and was intent in his struggle with his last screw.
"Done." he announced in a minute.
"Me too." Obi-Wan replied.
"Let's get this off." Maul instructed. They leveraged the lids in the crack
between the panel and the wall and, with a bit of brute force, it fell to the
ground with a clang, revealing a forest of switches and cables.
"Are you any good at sabotage?" Maul asked.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "If you mean slicing, reasonably."
"What do you reckon?" the Sith asked, peering intently into the chaos of
electronic components.
"That group of contacts there?" Obi-Wan ventured.
Maul nodded. "Looks like our best bet. This thing is older than we are." he
gave it an experimental pull, but the thing didn't give.
"Soldered in place... - he growled - Fucking piece of junk!"
"What now?" Obi-Wan asked, sticking his hand in as well and feeling around for
a weak point.
"Can you do Force-lightning?" Maul asked, sounding doubtful.
Obi-Wan gave him a hard stare. "What do you think? Do I look like a Sith to
you?" he asked, rather piqued.
"No, you're too cute. - Maul replied, smirking - Seriously."
"Now who is being creepy? - Obi-Wan retorted - Can't you do it yourself? You
are the Sith Lord here." he added.
"I've never been taught how to do it." Maul admitted ruefully, shaking his
head.
"Well... this is..." Obi-Wan started.
"This is quite shit. - Maul concluded for him - Alright, let's do this the old-
fashioned way." he proposed, and, before Obi-Wan could protest, Maul had
already sent a bolt of concentrated Force to the control panel, smashing it in.
The door opened through the middle with a scream of mistreated metal. Maul
grinned victoriously.
In the space of a second the steel panels closed back with a slam, only to open
again soon afterwards, settling into an irregular pattern of slamming and
creaking.
"Why can't anything go to plan in this bloody mission?!" Maul exclaimed,
punching the metal casing next to the panel in anger.
"It looks like it shorted out." Obi-Wan commented.
"Because it is a piece of crap! Seriously, did the Naboo do any maintenance
down here in the last thirty years?" Maul grumbled.
Obi-Wan kept quiet and let him vent some steam.
"We'll have to jump." the Sith said finally, looking rather dejected and
reflexively holding a hand against the wound.
"Maybe not. - Obi-Wan replied, scratching his stubbly chin as he mulled over an
alternative - We'll have to work together, if we do it my way."
Maul leveled at him a considering stare, frowning slightly. "If that means I
won't die like an idiot in a rubbish heap, it's fine by me." he said finally.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Do you think you can stand unaided for a moment?" he asked.
Maul nodded.
"And walk a few steps?" the Padawan asked again.
"In the worst-case scenario, I'll crawl. It's still better than trying to dive
through." the Sith replied.
"Good. - Obi-Wan commented, nodding approvingly - This is the plan then: we'll
wedge the door open with the Force from this side, then one of us will go
through and wedge it from the other side to let the other through."
"Would you trust me with keeping that thing open while you walk through?" Maul
asked.
"What about you?" Obi-Wan retorted, crossing his arms.
"You're a Jedi. You are too predictably good to try to deceive me." Maul
replied, sniffing in disdain.
"And you are too obsessed with dueling with me to resort to such a cheap
trick." Obi-Wan continued, giving him a sidelong glance.
The Sith frowned for a moment. "That and I cannot get out of here without your
help... I told you I do not fancy dying here if I can help it." he said.
"So we are agreed. Let's do this, then." Obi-Wan concluded.
Maul nodded and leaned away from the wall. Obi-Wan helped him step in front of
the door.
"Now!" the Padawan instructed, tapping into the Force to shore up the two steel
panels of the door. He could feel the darker tendrils emenating from the Sith
weawing around his and locking on the target. Obi-Wan found himself smiling. It
felt good to work together like that and he could feel an echo of satisfaction
waft through the Force from his improvised ally.
The two panels of the safety door would have been too heavy a load for either
of them in their weakened state, but together they were managing.
"Go ahead. I'll be right behind you." the Sith encouraged him.
Obi-Wan nodded and stepped forth, keeping a tight hold on the Force. He was
concentrating so hard that he barely noticed that he had gone through.
He turned and nodded wordlessly to the Sith.
Maul nodded back and took one wavering step. His hold on the door wavered too,
as he tried to stay on his feet.
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and braced harder. Maul was too exhausted and in pain
to last for very long, but Obi-Wan could tell that he was trying as hard as he
could. If he fell on the other side of the door and lost his grip on the Force,
though, there would be very little Obi-Wan would be able to do to help him.
"Only a few steps more. - he projected through the Force, trying to encourage
him - Come on, you can do it."
Maul stiffened for a moment upon feeling the Padawan's words in his head, then
gritted his teeth and took another step, then another.
Obi-Wan kept projecting encouragement towards him, knowing that the only reason
why the Sith could "hear" it at all was because his shields were crumbling in
exhaustion.
By the time he cleared the door, the Sith's hands, held up to aid the
visualisation, were shaking minutely and his eyes were shut tightly in
concentration and pain.
"You're through. It's all over." Obi-Wan projected.
He felt a surge of relief coming from his charge, then Maul let go suddenly of
the Force and fell to his hands and knees, gasping and trembling all over.
The Padawan let go as well, leaving the door to resume its opening-and-shutting
routine, and knelt to his side.
"It's alright... It's going to be alright... You were brilliant..." he said,
trying to comfort the Sith. He stroked his back gently, as he would have done
with a sick child, softly whispering reassurances and praise.
Maul was too busy trying to get his body back under control to be able to shove
him away or even protest, but Obi-Wan had the feeling that the Sith didn't
entirely mind his attempts at comforting him.
It took a while for the Sith's breath to go back to normal and for the shaking
to cease.
Maul laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder for support and pushed himself up into a
kneeling position.
"You are a crap liar, Kenobi." he rasped, looking at him with a wry, tired
smile.
"Jedi, remember? - Obi-Wan retorted lightly - Now let's get away from here.
Let's find somewhere more defensible to have a rest." he proposed.
Maul shook his head. "We need to keep moving." he objected stubbornly.
"We need to rest. I'm exhausted and I cannot even imagine how you must feel. -
the Padawan insisted - We need to keep our wits about us if we want to get out
of here in one piece."
The Sith hesitated a moment more before acquiescing.
"I can barely see straight now." he confessed quietly and dejectedly.
Obi-Wan slipped below the Sith's outstretched arm, ready to brace him.
"Lean on me, alright? Nice and slow." he instructed.
Maul nodded and started to push himself up, leaning heavily on Obi-Wan.
It was a miracle he could get to his feet, to say nothing about walking.
He was concentrating so hard just on putting one foot in front of the other
that his eyes were screwed shut and he blindly followed Obi-Wan's lead.
"Let me find somewhere safe in this tunnel. Let it be soon." the Padawan prayed
under his breath.
The Force was merciful with them and after a few minutes of swaying and
staggering, Obi-Wan noticed a hatchway on the side of the tunnel. It was closed
with a wheel and it looked in better state of repair than the rest of it
surroundings. A faded sign above it read "Fireproof room 17-A". It looked like
his prayers had been answered.
Now the problem was how to pry the hatchway open without letting go of Maul.
The Sith had gotten to the point of being unable to stand unaided, and Obi-Wan
realised he was too exhausted himself to pick him up if he fell to the ground.
"Why... Why did we stop?" the Sith panted.
"We found some shelter. - Obi-Wan announced - I am afraid I need your help once
more."
"Needy Jedi... - Maul chuckled. opening his eyes to assess the situation - I
pull one side and you push the other?" he asked, quickly catching up on the
problem.
Obi-Wan nodded and the Sith reached deep into the Force, extending his free
hand towards the wheel and closing it into a fist, as if he was grabbing it.
Obi-Wan did the same and together they turned it slowly but steadily, until the
mechanism clicked and the hatchway fell open.
Both of them sighed in relief.
"Come on. Nearly there!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, practically dragging his charge the
last couple of steps to the safe room.
As soon as they were in, Maul collapsed to his knees, dragging Obi-Wan down
with him. The Sith cursed weakly and Obi-Wan helped him sit with his back
against the closest wall, before dashing to the hatchway and closing it to keep
all sorts of predators at bay.
Task completed, he took a moment to survey the room. It was small and bare, a
box of concrete some ten paces across, with grated air vents near the ceiling,
a metal cupboard, a couple of concrete benches along the walls and a side-room
which hopefully contained a refresher. In a niche next to one of the benches,
there was even a wall - mounted comm.
Obi-Wan staggered towards it and tried to operate it, but whatever button he
pressed seemed to have the same effect, that is to say none.
"Dead, isn't it?" Maul asked weakly.
"As dead as a dodo." Obi-Wan commented, acquiescing with a nod.
"Lucky us, eh?" Maul commented with sarcasm
"Yeah, we should play the lottery. - Obi-Wan replied in the same tone,
shuffling towards the cupboard and opening it - Oh, that's nice! We got rations
and a first aid kit in here!" he announced, clapping his eyes on the contents
of the cupboard.
He ignored the food for a moment and opened the kit. There were bacta packages
and bandages and even a couple of pressure injectors loaded with painkiller
doses. He sighed in relief, grabbed everything and sank to the ground next to
the Sith.
"Is that what I think it is?" Maul asked with an almost pleading look in his
fire-gold eyes.
"Yes. Give me your arm." Obi-Wan replied. The Sith readily complied, rolling up
his right sleeve and extending his arm towards him.
Obi-Wan placed the injector against the patterned skin on the inside of the
Sith's elbow and pressed the button. The drug was released with a soft
pneumatic hiss and Maul sighed in relief. "Thank Force for painkillers..." he
whispered.
"It's going to be better soon." Obi-Wan promised - I'll see if that 'fresher
works. I really want to wash my hands... I'll be back in a moment, OK?"
Maul nodded. "It's not like I'm going anywhere..." he said with a hint of
sarcasm.
Strangely, the water supply was still connected and the taps worked.
Obi-Wan washed blood and grime off his hands, scrubbing them with a shriveled
bar of pungent-smelling soap which must have been as old as him. He took off
his tunic and washed his face and arms, everywhere he could manage without
getting water all over the floor.
Being marginally clean made all the difference in the world, he though.
By the time he went back to the main room, Maul had already fallen asleep or
nearly there, his sharp features relaxed into an almost peaceful expression.
The black markings on his skin made him look always slightly miffed, especially
because he was actually angry most of the time, but now he was only looked
young and exhausted.
Obi-Wan knelt on the concrete floor next to him, considering what to do next.
"Am I so interesting to you, little Padawan?" Maul asked, without even opening
his eyes. His reflections must have lasted somewhat longer than he thought,
Obi-Wan reflected, blushing in a fit of embarrassment.
"I... I think it would be wise to have a look at the wound, but I didn't want
to wake you up." he replied, stammering a bit.
Maul opened his eyes and looked at him with an expression of intense
concentration, as if he was trying to decode him. "I wasn't sleeping. I was
trying to meditate. - he replied - Not that it is any easy when someone is
looking at you like that." he added.
"Like what?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The way you were looking at me... Like it mattered." the Sith whispered,
looking away.
Obi-Wan blinked, perplexed by his reply. He considered asking for an
explanation, then decided it was better to let the subject drop. There were far
more important issues to be solved before he was too tired to function.
"Will you let me see to your wound?" he asked again, switching subject.
Maul shifted his gaze back towards him but did not reply.
"It would be best to clean it again and put a proper dressing on, now that it
is possible. To prevent an infection and that kind of stuff... - Obi-Wan
continued, while the Sith kept staring at him in that slightly disquieting way
- But it's up to you, I guess." he concluded, starting to feel rather self-
conscious.
Maul nodded. "Okay." he acceded tonelessly.
"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asked again.
The Sith once more limited his reply to a nod and closed his eyes, slipping
back into a meditative state, possibly to resist to the inevitable pain.
Obi-Wan sighed and slipped a pair of gloves on from the first-aid kit, deftly
untying the improvised bandage and setting it aside. Some sort of white-ish
fluid had stuck the inner layer to the flesh. He worked slowly and gently,
wetting the fabric with the saline he had found in the kit and eventually it
peeled off. A frown had appeared on the Sith's brow and his lips had tightened
in a slight grimace, but he had made no sound during the whole process.
It was Obi-Wan who whimpered slightly upon seeing what lay beneath the
bandages. The edges of the wound were swollen and discoloured, and slick with
more of the same fluid that had stained the bandages.
Maul opened his eyes and looked at him with a wry little grimace on his lips.
"It's gone bad already, isn't it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
Obi-Wan didn't reply, but rummaged frantically into the kitbag, hoping against
hope that there will be some sort of antibiotic in there.
There wasn't.
"It's going to be alright. Tomorrow we'll be out of here. - he said, voice
shaking in nervousness even as he tried to reassure his charge - There is a
good hospital in Theed. They'll give you antibiotics. You're going to be
alright."
Maul shook his head. "Why do you do this? Why do you care?" he asked, staring
at him with that odd intensity again.
"Because you are a person, even if you think of yourself as my enemy." Obi-Wan
replied, holding his gaze.
"I am your enemy." Maul retorted, but something told Obi-Wan that his
conviction was not so solid.
"You don't have to be if you don't want to." the Padawan insisted.
"Don't you hate me for what I did? Don't you want me to pay for it?" Maul asked
softly.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Hating you will not bring Master Qui-Gon back. Neither
will your suffering. - he replied, feeling his heart ache at the thought of
what he had lost - You cannot mend a wrong with another wrong." he added,
knowing with all his heart that it was the truth.
Maul looked at him almost with awe for an instant, then shook his head again
and closed his eyes. "I do not deserve your compassion, little Padawan." he
said, almost defensively.
"Yes, you do." Obi-Wan thought, but the only thing he said was: "Tell me when
the pain becomes too much. Tell me to stop, alright?"
Maul nodded wordlessly and the Padawan cracked open a pack of bacta-soaked
gauzes and started to clean the wound as gently as he could, hoping that the
infection would be swept away by the antiseptic.
He covered the wound as well as he could with the sterile synthskin bandages he
had been able to find, topped that with bacta-gauzes to keep any other germs at
bay, and finally wrapped the Sith's midriff with bandages as snugly and deftly
as his limited ability as a healer allowed.
"All done." Obi-Wan announced softly, taking the gloves off and discarding them
on the floor. He sat on the floor next to the prisoner and allowed himself to
relax a fraction.
Maul didn't react in any way for quite a long moment and Obi-Wan started
worrying that he might have lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Thanks..." Maul whispered in the end, so softly that it was almost hard to
hear.
"You're welcome. " Obi-Wan replied, a little surprised by the thanks.
"No one has ever done something like this for me before." the Sith revealed.
Obi-Wan frowned, uncomprehending. "Haven't you ever hurt yourself in the...
discharge of your duties?" he asked. Even without trying, he could spot a
silvery-orange scar curving along his ribs, ending just above the bandages.
That must have hurt.
"Yes, but that's what medical droids are for, isn't it? - Maul replied,
frowning as well - I hate the bloody things. I'd rather fix myself on my own."
"Hasn't your Master ever seen to your wounds?" Obi-Wan asked. The frown was
risking to become permanent.
Maul shook his head, looking slightly lost and defeated. "He says that if I get
wounded it is because I didn't do things right. Pain will teach me to do better
next time." he explained tonelessly.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Maybe it is true, but even so, you learned your lesson
a few hours ago. - he said firmly - I think you deserve a bit of comfort and
care."
"That's one of the reasons why Jedi are weak. - Maul retorted with a disdainful
snort - Warriors should learn the consequences of their failures if they want
to get stronger." he declared with conviction.
"What is the failure in getting hurt if you complete your mission? - Obi-Wan
asked - Apart from that, it's been proven that people learn better from
positive experiences and praise than from pain." he added smugly.
The Sith's eyes widened for an instant. "You are making this stuff up." he
commented dismissively.
"I am not. I am a Jedi, remember? I am not allowed to lie. - Obi-Wan replied -
When we are out of here I'll show you the publications."
His words seemed to have left a sour taste in the Sith's mouth.
"Whatever. That is not the Sith way." he commented with a grimace.
"So if one of your Sith buddies got injured you wouldn't help him?" Obi-Wan
insisted, sensing that there was a crack in the Sith's conceptual armour.
Maul gave him a perplexed glance.
"Ah, right I forgot you people don't have buddies. - the Padawan said, slapping
his forehead - Only two there are, a Master to embody power, and an Apprentice
to crave it." he quoted, unconsciously mimicking Grand Master Yoda's voice.
"Correct. But why are you talking weird?" Maul asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Obi-Wan chuckled in embarrassment. "That's a long story. Anyway, it must be
lonely for you people..." he added cheerfully.
"It is." Maul admitted softly.
"Well, then, if your Master got hurt, wouldn't you help him?" Obi-Wan insisted.
"If my Master got wounded in a fight, I would probably be already dead trying
to defend him." Maul replied heatedly.
"Well, let's assume for the sake of the argument that you are still alive and
well. Would you leave him to suffer or would you help him?" Obi-Wan argued.
Maul hesitated a moment, casting him an alarmed look. "I... I would help him."
he replied finally, looking down as if in shame and defeat.
"Why are you making this sound bad?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning in worry and
incomprehension.
"Because it is. You seem to know so much about Sith traditions, figure that out
for yourself!" Maul growled.
Obi-Wan saw anger flash in his eyes and in the Force, but he had the impression
that it was directed at himself.
"Please, don't tell me that is is something dramatic like because the
Apprentice is supposed to off his Master..." Obi-Wan pleaded.
"It is. Wanting to kill one's Master is supposed to motivate the Apprentice to
become stronger and wiser." Maul replied glumly, still refusing to raise his
gaze.
"But how?! How are you supposed to want to kill the person who has taught you
everything?!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, feeling bewildered and incensed. It was wrong,
no, beyond wrong. It was appalling, preposterous, inconceivable.
"I wouldn't know. I don't." Maul confessed in a whisper.
"You don't?!" Obi-Wan repeated, feeling immensely, inordinately relieved by the
revelation.
"I wanted once. He goaded me into it, said he was going to replace me with
someone better. - Maul admitted shaking his head - But it was only a moment, it
was only anger. I don't wish his death, I just... can't. He is everything I
have. I wouldn't be anything without him." he added as if trying to justify
himself.
Obi-Wan felt a surge of pity for the Sith. Destiny had dealt him a cruel hand.
"Well, maybe you are an atypical Sith, but I think this is quite... you know...
normal." he said, trying to console him.
Maul smiled wryly. "I am a crap Sith. I cannot even shoot Force-lightning..."
he argued, trying to make a joke of it.
"It's fine by me. I don't really fancy being electrocuted during our rematch."
Obi-Wan replied playfully, glad that the gloom had been dispelled.
"I suppose it is fair enough. Not that I would need it to hand your ass out to
you..." Maul provoked, a bit of life and humour returning to his voice and
expression.
"We'll see... - Obi-Wan teased - Changing subject, I know you can't really eat,
with that wound, but would you mind if I got some food?" he asked.
"Go ahead. I don't mind. - Maul replied - I would kill for some water though."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll get you some from the tap." he offered, getting to his
feet.
Obi-Wan came back a few minutes later with a only slightly off-date spaceship
ration and a glass of water, and sat back beside his charge.
Strange how he didn't even consider sitting on one of the benches even if it
would have been more comfortable than on the ground.
This time Maul wasn't meditating, but was fast asleep. Obi-Wan wasn't
surprised. It was surprising that he had lasted so long.
Poor boy, he thought. The longer he interacted with him, the more he realised
that under the scary, outlandish exterior and the adherence to the Sith tenets,
there was a confused and possibly broken young man. He was surprisingly
likeable and straightforward for a Sith. There was still honour in him, still
some sympathy, still some humanity, and a profound loneliness that was painful
to see.
There must have been some deep hurt or rejection at the heart of his fall, and
Obi-Wan found himself lamenting it. If Maul hadn't fallen, they could have been
good friends.
Sighing, the Padawan forced himself to stop musing about would-have-beens and
could-have-beens and gently shook the Sith by a shoulder.
His eyes shot open and his left hand twitched upwards as if couching a blow
before he stopped himself.
Obi-Wan unconsciously backed away. "It's just me. I brought water." he said
soothingly.
Maul took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Next time call out for me before
you get too close. -he said - I'm not used to be woken up like this." he added,
almost apologetically.
Obi-Wan realised that it was the only sort of apology he was going to get and
let the matter drop. He handed the cup to the Sith and sat down with his
ration, cracking it open and tucking in hungrily.
Silence fell on the small room once more, as he ate and Maul nursed his glass
of water as if it was something much stronger, brooding quietly and taking
occasional small sips, before finally setting the half-full glass down on the
floor and closing his eyes.
"Little Padawan... - he called out after a while, when Obi-Wan had already
judged him to be asleep - Was your Master as kind with you as you are being
with me?" he asked, his voice soft and timid and his gaze far away.
Obi-Wan nearly choked on his ration and on the sorrow those few words had
engendered. He could remember quite a few times when he had been ill or wounded
and Master Qui-Gon had looked after him like mother and father combined.
They were now lost forever.
"Yes. He was." he replied, struggling to prevent his voice from breaking.
Maul sighed, closed his eyes and didn't say anything.
Obi-Wan waited for him to speak, nearly trembling with the effort of keeping
those feelings bottled up, but the Sith seemed to have fallen asleep again.
He hid his face in his hands and cried, not caring a whit if his charge was
only pretending to sleep again.
***** From Darkness into the Light *****
Chapter Summary
     Warning: implied child abuse of all kinds you can imagine. That's
     Darth Sidious to you people.
Darkness woke Obi-Wan up after what felt like only a few minutes of unbroken
sleep. It was thick and dense and crackling with energy and it was churning,
building up like a tsunami wave after an earthquake.
The Padawan's eyes shot open.
The fireproof room where he and his prisoner had bunked for the "night" was
still illuminated by the same faint, reddish safety lights as before he fell
asleep. It took a moment for him to realise that the darkness was manifesting
itself through the Force.
He turned towards Maul, thinking that maybe it was his doing, even if it didn't
feel like it was. The darkness he was sensing now was somehow deeper and colder
than Maul's Force-presence, like brackish water hiding a quicksand, or a
noxious fume that strangled silently, rather than like a blaze of fire.
The Sith's eyes were wide in astonishment as if he was realising only now
something fundamental.
"What is this?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual in
near-panic.
The darkness continued to build up and storm, and for a moment Obi-Wan could
sense a second presence in the maelstrom, rising and falling as if struggling
with the main presence. It was as deep and as cold as the first, but older,
sharper and... just different. Obi-Wan could almost taste their two different
flavours at the back of his mouth. The notion made him feel slightly sick.
Darkness fought against darkness within the Force, until with a terrible
conflagration, the second presence gave way and disappeared. Obi-Wan could feel
the aftershocks reverberating hard all around him before fading away into the
Force. Maul's expression turned to rage for an instant, and then to sadness and
defeat so profound and bitter that it pained Obi-Wan to watch it.
"What was that?" he asked again, even more urgently.
Maul took a series of deep breaths as if to calm himself down before turning
his face towards him and replying.
"That was a Sith Lord as he died." he said. His voice didn't waver, but it was
toneless and almost mechanical and his eyes were empty like an abandoned house.
Obi-Wan felt a new pang of compassion towards him. Could it be that the Order
had already managed to find his Master and get rid of him? Poor Maul, he
thought. It seemed like now they had both lost the most important person in
their lives.
"I am so sorry... It was your Master, wasn't it?" he said softly, considering
whether he should reach out for him, to offer him comfort.
Maul shook his head. "No. It wasn't." he replied. He had curled up into a
really tight ball as if trying to occupy the least amount of space, hugging his
knees and hiding his face.
Obi-Wan blinked repeatedly and tilted his head to one side, as if a slightly
different perspective on the events might help him make sense of what was
happening.
"Then what...? Who...? I don't understand..." he said, feeling completely out
of his depth.
"There is nothing for you to understand! Nothing! - Maul lashed out, his anger
blazing like a flame in the landscape of the Force - This is none of your
Force-damned business!" he added, casting a venomous glare at him.
"Hey, easy there, I only meant to help..." Obi-Wan commented defensively.
"I don't want your help! Just leave me alone!" Maul shouted, but his anger was
fading fast and the pain underneath it was quickly coming to the surface.
"Please, little Padawan. Go back to sleep. I can't deal with this now. I... I
just can't. " the Sith confessed after a moment of silence.
"It's alright, don't worry about this. - Obi-Wan offered, unnerved by the sense
of defeat that permeated the Sith's words - We're tired. You'll see that things
won't look so grim in the morning." he added.
Maul expelled a small, humourless laugh and shook his head, but didn't protest.
"I'm here if you need me, alright?" Obi-Wan added, feeling sleep drag him back
into its clutches.
Maul nodded. "I know. - he said - Thank the Force for that..." he added
quietly, so quietly that Obi-Wan might have dreamed it, but it still warmed him
up from the inside out nonetheless.
When he woke up later in what passed for morning in that lightless wasteland,
Maul was staring at him with a wistful expression, red-gold eyes glassy and
shining with fever.
Obi-Wan had the feeling that he had been awake and looking at him for a while
already.
"Hey... How are you feeling?" Obi-Wan asked softly, uncurling from the floor
and shifting towards his charge.
Maul shrugged. "The pain has lessened, but the fever has risen." he replied
tonelessly.
"Right... - Obi-Wan commented - Do you mind...?" he added, extending a hand
towards the Sith.
Maul shook his head. "Go for it."
Obi-Wan placed a hand on his brow. He was burning with fever already.
"You've got cold hands, little Padawan..." Maul whispered, leaning into his
touch.
"No one complained before." Obi-Wan retorted, forcing a smile on his face.
"I'm not complaining." the Sith clarified.
"We should get going. The sooner you get medical attention, the better." Obi-
Wan said.
Maul just nodded.
There was an air of defeat and profound exhaustion about him. Obi-Wan found
himself doubting that he would be able to pull another effort like the previous
day. It looked like all the energy and the purpose had been drained from him
and, even in the Force, his presence felt more like the ashes of a fire rather
than an angry blaze like before.
Now even more than the night before he could see how broken his prisoner was
inside. Whatever happened in the Dark Side earlier had nearly shattered him,
but Obi-Wan could sense that there was still some fire smouldering under the
ash, weak and dwindling. He would stir it and rekindle it.
In different circumstances, the idea would have struck him as ludicrous, but
now a part of him screamed that he should help him, that he should save him,
not just because it could be important in the long term, not because it could
be strategically advantageous, but because of him, because it would be a shame
and a waste to let him fade away.
"Alright. I'll get you some water and then we roll." Obi-Wan declared, taking
command.
Maul nodded and Obi-Wan stole to the refresher with the cup and all the
bandages left in the first-aid kit.
When he came back, he had a cupful of cool water and a bundle of wet fabric,
both of which Maul eyed with relief.
"Here. Drink slowly." Obi-Wan instructed, handing over the cup. The Sith
murmured something under his breath which might have been a thank you, and took
a small sip.
"Tie these around your wrists and temples. - Obi-Wan added, proffering the wet
bandages - They will help with the fever."
The Sith nodded quietly and swallowed another sip of water, then took the
bandages.
Obi-Wan left him alone for a moment and went back to the cupboard, stashing
some rations and the last dose of painkiller in his utility pockets, then found
some sort of canister and filled it with water from the tap. He needed to keep
his prisoner hydrated to ensure his survival.
When he came back to his side, Maul had drunk all the water and tied up the
bandages.
"Let's go." the Sith exhorted. A glimmer of determination had returned to his
eyes and Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a bit relieved because of this.
"We still have one shot of painkillers, if you need it." he said.
Maul shook his head. "Keep it. I might need it more badly later." he replied.
The Padawan nodded and, with ability born of practice, helped the Sith get
first to his knees and then, slowly to his feet.
They left the fireproof room behind in nearly complete silence, staggering and
swaying like a pair of drunk revelers crawling out of a night club in the
seediest district of Coruscant. After a few hours of sleep, Obi-Wan was feeling
reasonably restored, but Maul's conditions were rapidly deteriorating. Obi-Wan
could feel the fevered heat of his skin through their clothes and he ever so
often caught snatches of thoughts and feelings filtering through the Sith's
crumbling mind shields. It was nothing happy and Obi-Wan realised that it was
hopelessness as much as pain that weighted his steps.
As much as he tried, he couldn't understand what he had sensed in the Force.
There had been a third Sith, that was clear, and somehow it didn't surprise him
too much that the Darksiders wouldn't even be able to follow their own rules.
He just didn't understand why that would affect Maul so much and so badly.
"That darkness in the Force... Does it mean your Master had another
apprentice?" he asked, a bit out of the blue.
Maul looked at him and shook his head. He caught a breath to reply, when
suddenly the ground gave way under Obi-Wan's feet. He cried out, feeling
himself falling down among the refuse, but his fall was stopped suddenly with a
wrench to his shoulder.
Above his head sounded a bloodcurdling howl of agony and rage. Maul had managed
to grab his wrist and brace himself somewhere, preventing his disappearance
down the sinkhole. "Hold on, little Padawan!" the Sith cried.
Something thick and rubbery wrapped itself around his ankles and started
pulling in the other direction. Obi-Wan turned and looked down into the abyss.
The creature at the bottom was half-shrouded in gloom, but the Jedi managed to
distinguish strong mandibles and pincers, along with a crop of tentacles.
Whatever it was, it was big enough to use both him and Maul as a light snack.
Terror gripped him for a moment, effectively paralyzing him. His sweaty hand
started to slip in Maul's.
"I'm not letting you fall!" the Sith yelled. Obi-Wan closed his eyes against a
sudden burst of light. The air was filled with the smell of ozone and the
creature down the sinkhole let a chittering and hissing sound. The tentacle
released him and Obi-Wan lost no time in scrambling up, trembling in all his
limbs.
Maul was lying awkwardly on the floor, propped against the discarded section of
durasteel pipe he had been bracing against, eyes closed in utter exhaustion.
Obi-Wan crawled towards him not quite knowing what to think and to feel.
Sensing him close, the Sith opened his eyes and turned his face towards him.
"End of the line, little Padawan. Won't be able to move from here." he
whispered. Obi-Wan frantically checked the bandages and found them already wet
with blood. He withdrew his hand and shook his head in desperation.
"Why did you do that, you crazy bastard? Why did you save my life?" Obi-Wan
asked, his voice breaking with emotion.
"You deserve a warrior's death. .. - the Sith panted, closing his eyes again -
Under the sun, with a sword in your hand... Couldn't let you die like that...
Would have been a bloody shame." he concluded, smiling weakly.
Obi-Wan blinked away the tears that had welled up in his eyes.
"You were kind with me. - the Sith continued - I... I am sorry about your
Master. I am sorry I brought you pain."
"Shhh... It's alright. Don't worry about this now. - Obi-Wan whispered - You'll
tell me everything when we are safe. When you are better."
Maul smiled wistfully. "Oh, I would love to... - he said, but his words were
cut by a spasm of pain - It is time, Obi-Wan, please. Have mercy." he pleaded
softly. His eyes were glazed with pain and fever and his pulse jumped
erratically in his neck.
"I can't. I've never..." the Jedi choked on his own words.
"You've never... Never killed anyone outside of battle?" Maul asked in a tone
of soft wonder. Obi-Wan shook his head.
"I'll be your first... - the Sith whispered - Good. You'll always remember me,
then..." he added, sounding morbidly pleased with this. He lifted a hand and
raised it towards Obi-Wan's face, stopping just short of touching him before he
let it fall.
The Jedi bit his lip to prevent it from trembling and hesitated again.
"Don't cry, I don't deserve your tears... - Maul continued - I'm just glad you
didn't... That you didn't do it when I first asked. I'm glad I got to know you.
You really are something... I regret I'll miss our rematch... It would have
been... glorious..." he rasped, smiling softly.
Obi-Wan shook his head in denial. There was hardly another way, but it wasn't
right. It didn't feel right to kill the man who had just saved your life.
He had also been responsible for his Master's death and obviously a good action
did not cancel a bad one, but it must count for something in the grand scheme
of things. There must be another way, he thought, frantically looking around to
find some idea. Maybe he could...
And then he realised. There was another solution, it was so obvious!
He quickly grabbed the painkiller from his pocket and jabbed it into Maul's
arm, releasing the charge."What are you...?" he asked weakly.
The Jedi didn't reply, but passed one arm around his back and the other under
his knees and struggled to his feet. The Sith was a couple of inches shorter
than him, but solid. It wasn't going to be easy to carry him bridal-style, as
the called it, but it would not be possible to do otherwise, with that wound.
"Put me down! You'll never make it, if you have to carry me." Maul protested
weakly.
"I have to try." Obi-Wan replied finding his balance and starting to walk. He
wanted to be clear of that area quickly, before the creature Maul had zapped
regained its composure and came after them.
"I'm not worth your sacrifice, Jedi! - Maul protested - I am not even a true
Sith..." he added.
"Sure you are." Obi-Wan grunted, negotiating a tricky landslide of broken
crockery and rotten wood.
"No, I am nothing. I was never anything more than a tool. - Maul declared -
What you felt... it was my Master killing his own Master. He was the
Apprentice, not I." he explained.
"Oh!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. What he had sensed made a lot more sense now.
"I was supernumerary. That's why he never taught me anything more, that's why
he never revealed me his plans. - Maul continued - My whole life was a lie. I
was worthless to him and I will be worthless to your order. Please, put me
down. End this." he pleaded again, his voice breaking.
"You are not worthless to me." Obi-Wan declared, shaking his head.
"But I cannot do anything for you!" Maul protested.
"It's not about what you can do. It's about who you are. - Obi-Wan replied
firmly - You are not a tool. You are a person, and not too bad at that, for
being an ax-crazy darksider." he added more gently, even as he was struggling.
It wasn't easy to carry him like that. Maul wasn't actively struggling, but he
wasn't helping him either.
"If I put you down, you'll have to die, one way or the other, and I can't do
it, not like this. Sorry, I'm weak this way. - he admitted defiantly - Now, do
you really want to die? If you just roll over and let it happen, your Master
will win. You'll really be a tool. Is that what you want?" he asked.
"No..." came the barely audible reply.
"Then hold on to me and concentrate on surviving." the Jedi instructed.
Maul nodded weakly and snaked his arms around Obi-Wan's shoulders, laying his
head against his collarbone. His skin was now burning hot and he was trembling
lightly every few seconds. "Think happy thoughts..." he murmured almost
sleepily. An alarm went off in Obi-Wan's head.
"Keep talking to me, OK? You can't fall asleep. I need to know you're still
with me." he added.
The Sith nodded, grazing one of his horns against Obi-Wan's chest. "Sorry!" he
said, quite embarrassed.
"It's alright. - Obi-Wan replied softly - Now talk, OK?"
"Easy for you, I'm not a talkative person." Maul replied in a slightly stronger
voice, rather piqued.
"Could have fooled me yesterday." the Jedi retorted.
"I... These are special circumstances." Maul admitted.
"It's a really weird situation, I know." said Obi-Wan, trying to make light of
it.
"What I mean is that I've never had occasions to talk to someone like this, you
know? - Maul continued - I wasn't not often required to talk much by my Master
and when I was on a mission, people were usually too busy shitting themselves
in fear to initiate a conversation. But you are not afraid and are actually
listening. This is something I've never had before, you know? Something like an
equal..." he said.
"I'm doing it again, am I not?" he asked after a short pause.
"Doing what?" Obi-Wan asked coyly.
"Babbling." Maul specified and the Jedi nodded smiling.
Maul sighed. "Then I guess I am a talkative person, under the right
conditions." he admitted, somewhat ruefully.
"There is nothing wrong with this." Obi-Wan grunted, negotiating a particularly
slippery bit of tunnel.
"It's nice to talk to someone, sometimes. I wish I had realised earlier..."
Maul sighed, starting to slur again.
"You'll have plenty of time to exhaust me with your talking, after we get out
of here." Obi-Wan declared encouragingly.
"Will you still listen to me, though? Will you still want to talk with me like
this?" Maul asked.
"Why shouldn't I?" the Jedi asked.
"Because once we are out of here, everything will go back to normal. - Maul
replied - You'll be a Jedi and I'll be a Darksider, and we'll have no reason to
talk to each other. We'll have to hate each other... I' m not sure I will be
able to." he added, so quietly that Obi-Wan thought he had imagined it.
"It was easy to hate you, when I didn't know you. - the Sith continued - Now
everything is so confusing... I almost wish I had not met you, at least I would
not be so confused... The only thing I know for sure is that it feels good to
talk to you, not to be alone anymore..."
Obi-Wan didn't know how to reply to that and kept walking in silence, trying
not to voice the pity and affection he felt for his prisoner. He was not sure
he would want it, not even in his weak and feverish state.
"You must think I'm a despicable weakling for this..." Maul rasped, closing his
eyes.
"Well, I think you're allowed to feel a bit under the weather, given the
circumstances. You're a tough bastard, but everyone needs some company and some
care, every now and then." Obi-Wan said.
"Doesn't that make you weak, wanting to rely on someone else?" Maul asked,
looking at Obi-Wan with odd intensity, as if he could pry the answer directly
from his soul.
"No, it makes you stronger. It makes both those who give help and those who are
helped stronger." Obi-Wan explained, hoping that he would understand it, that
he would believe it.
"It must be good for you of the Light, to be able to trust blindly like this."
Maul commented, halfway between cynical and wistful.
"You're trusting me now. You have been trusting me the whole time, in fact."
Obi-Wan pointed out.
"I have no choice. When you're weak you have to accept what you get dished,
whatever it might be." Maul retorted, unwilling to concede his ground.
"And I have been trusting you not to do anything funny that would result in
both our deaths." the Jedi added.
Maul shook his head. "We're beyond that stage now." he said quietly.
"Yes, now. But yesterday? You could have collected a shard of something from
the floor and stabbed me when I was trying to bind your wound, or you could
have killed me in my sleep tonight." Obi-Wan contested.
The prisoner remained silent for a while. Obi-Wan was on the verge of asking
him if everything was alright when he finally found his voice. "It wouldn't
have been right. You were trying to help me. I could not kill you like that...
- he confessed - I am weak, like my Master has always said..." he said
dejectedly.
"Maybe there is a bit of Light in you, like there is a bit of Dark in me, as
you were saying earlier. - Obi-Wan proposed - If the Dark in me gives me an
edge, the Light in you could do the same to you."
"The Light is weak." Maul objected, fighting to keep his eyes open, but it
sounded like a knee-jerk reaction.
"Do you think I'm weak?" Obi-Wan asked.
The Sith shook his head again. "You're... confusing, but you are not... weak...
You are... - he panted - You are just right... My nemesis..." he concluded,
almost with affection. He let his head fall on Obi-Wan's shoulder and his eyes
drifted shut.
"Hey, don't! - Obi-Wan protested, highly alarmed - Stay awake! Stay with me!"
he cried out.
Maul stirred weakly, but did not open his eyes or reply. His hold on the Jedi's
shoulders was weakening and his whole body was relaxing as he slipped into
unconsciousness.
Time was running out. He needed to get help soon, Obi-Wan thought, fighting
against a rising wave of panic.
He could not afford to lose clarity now, when everything rested on him.
He couldn't let Maul die. He would have never been able to, but now... Now
things had changed. There was doubt in him, there was hope that he would
realise that the Dark Side didn't have all the answers.
A bit of hope was all Obi-Wan needed to be willing to fight to the end. Now he
understood why his Master had always been so willing to help strays and
misfits: for that hope, to make all that potential come to be.
It was just the irony of Fate that he had come to realise that with the person
who had killed his mentor, but in a way it also made sense, as if his Master's
sacrifice, the realisation of the loss, had been required to open his eyes.
He understood. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt.
Obi-Wan tried to clear his mind and connect to the Force. He extended his mind,
looking for the light and saw it distantly, ahead of him.
He held his charge closer, ignoring the burning in his muscles, and took off at
a trot. He knew the jostling was not nice to Maul, but speed was of essence, so
he forced himself to ignore the quiet whimpers escaping from the unconscious
Sith's lips. He would make up to him later, after they both made it to safety.
Trying to offer some sort of comfort, he brushed the Sith's mind with his own,
in what was almost a caress.
A flash of images and sensations flew at him at the contact, strong and vivid
enough to make him stop in his tracks for a moment.
A young child, his bright red skin covered in bruises and welts, was lying in a
heap on the cold, hard floor. A dark-clad man, as tall as a tower, was standing
next to him, heaping abuse over him. The child asked him to stop, crying his
blue-grey eyes out, but the abuse kept coming.
The taste of his own blood in his mouth, pain and cold and an overwhelming
solitude. The droids were indifferent to his plight, going about their tasks
and ignoring his demands for attention .
These were not fever-induced nightmares, but snippets of memories, Obi-Wan
realised. Maul's shields had come crashing down as he lost consciousness, and
now just by brushing his own mind against his, Obi-Wan was having a front-row
seat view of the worst moments in the Sith's life. There had been no fall to
the Dark for him, he had just been thrown in at the deep end and forced to
learn to survive.
Obi-Wan watched in horrified fascination as the child learned to accept pain
and isolation as his lot, clinging with childish determination to any
improvement of his condition. He saw him learn through pain and humiliation to
submit to his Master, he saw him learn to despise himself for his weakness and
try to be better, harder, stronger.
The bastard made sure to be the only living creature the boy saw in his first
years, and the child naturally became dependent on him in his desperate search
for someone to relate to.
Even if something deep inside him kept telling him that it was not this way,
that it was not enough, the child learned to interpret lack of punishment as a
reward and lack of spite as affection. His Master was the only thing he had in
his life and he wanted his approval, which was rare in coming. He tried his
best, but it was never quite enough and so the boy lived on, hiding the
emptiness and the loneliness inside him like a shame, finding solace in his
anger and his ability to fight and ignore his own pain.
It was so horrible and heart-wrenching that Obi-Wan wanted to tear himself away
from all of it, but part of him knew that he couldn't. He just could not leave
Maul alone to face everything all over again, so he hugged the Sith closer to
his chest and continued to jog, trying to wrap his own Force-shield around Maul
to let him know that he was not alone in this, not anymore.
The wasted landscape of the tunnel became overlaid with terrible images and the
Jedi staggered on, almost blinded by tears.
How could any man behave so monstrously towards a child in his charge, exploit
him so ruthlessly with not a single thought to his welfare?
He had thought he had already seen the worse when he was shown how Maul had
been dumped in a waste chute much like the one they had just fallen into and
left to fend off by himself against all sorts of hungry creatures, and then the
images changed into something even more terrible, almost unspeakable.
Obi-Wan stumbled, feeling the child's pain, revulsion and shame as the old Sith
used him against his will. He fell on his knees, cutting them open on something
buried in the refuse heap. The pain helped him ground himself in the here-and-
now and regain some control.
He blinked away his tears and realised that the light in the tunnel had
changed. Ahead of him, just behind a bend in the tunnel, pinkish light was
filtering in.
Feeling his heart leap in his chest, the Jedi picked himself up and staggered
onwards. Just beyond the safety grate, the sun was rising over Naboo. Obi-Wan
blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the light. It was beautiful.
"We'are nearly out, Maul. Hang in there." he whispered.
With a quick and sharp application of Force, a bit of Force-lightning summoned
out of Force-knows-where in desperation, he short-circuited the control panel
embedded in the wall nearby and the grate slid open.
He stumbled out, feeling packed earth and then grass beneath his soles. The air
smelled unbelievably clean after the stench of the tunnels. Guided by the sound
of nearby water, he reached a stream and lowered himself to the ground on its
bank, underneath the canopy of a low-hanging tree.
The sound of water was soothing but also torturous after the long hours they
had spent toiling in the tunnels. It had been early afternoon when the fighting
had broken out, as far as he could recall, and now it was nearly sundown again.
The must have spent nearly an entire day in that Force-forsaken tunnel.
First things first, he told himself, concentrating on his most urgent task. He
grabbed the commlink and punched in the code for the Commander of the Royal
Guard and this time a communication was established.
"Master Kenobi! -exclaimed a voice - Where are you. We thought we had lost
you!"
"I am at the exit of the waste-pit tunnels, near the stream. - he replied,
hoping that the Naboo was familiar with the place - I request immediate
assistance."
"Are you injured, Master Kenobi?" the Naboo asked, persisting in calling him
with a title he did not deserve yet.
"No, I'm fine, but I have a person here with me. He's critically wounded and
needs immediate medical assistance. - he explained, drawing on years of
training to keep calm - Come here ASAP, track my device if it helps, but
hurry!" he concluded.
There was muffled shouting on the other side of the line, as if the Commander
was bellowing orders while covering the microphone on the commlink with the
palm of a hand. "We found you. ETA fifteen, twenty standard minutes maximum."
the Commander said curtly.
"Copy that. May the Force speed you." replied the Jedi, cutting the
communication.
"Help is on the way, Maul. Don't let go. - he whispered to the unconscious Sith
- Keep breathing. Keep breathing for me, please." he pleaded.
Maul managed to open his eyes just a fraction.
"The sun?..." he whispered with awe, raising a trembling hand as if to touch
the light.
"Yes, it's the sun. We're out. We made it." Obi-Wan said, smiling through the
tears.
Maul managed a weak smile even as he let his hand drop.
"That's the spirit. - Obi-Wan encouraged him - Here, have some water. You'll
feel better." he said, bringing the water canister close to his lips. Maul was
too weak now to raise his head to drink. Obi-Wan supported him tenderly and the
Sith gulped the still-cool water greedily, so that he had to take the canister
away after a moment, before he choked on it. Maul protested softly, but his
protestations turned into a sigh of relief when Obi-Wan dripped some of the
leftover water on his hand and used it to wet the Sith's brow and temples.
"It'll be alright..." Obi-Wan reassured.
Maul nodded and relaxed for an instant, probably slipping back into
unconsciousness, just for his eyes snap back open in fear. "I'm falling..." he
whispered.
"Don't worry, I'll catch you." Obi-Wan replied, sensing that he was afraid of
being left alone, at the mercy of his worst memories.
"Promise?" Maul struggled to ask.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Promise."
Maul sighed and closed his eyes, leaning on the Jedi's support. He let himself
go, trusting that Obi-Wan would help him withstand the assault.
The horror show started almost immediately and Maul started shivering, moaning
and struggling weakly against the desperation of his memories. He needed to
calm down to conserve energy and slow down his heartbeat to minimise blood
loss.
Obi-Wan tapped in the flow of memories that was still being projected and tried
to steer them towards something, if not happy, at least peaceful, but he could
find nothing that was not tainted by pain, anger or despair. And so he opened
himself up and let his own shields fall down, searching in his mind for happy
memories to share.
He was playing in the green next to his old house with his brother Owen and the
neighbour's children, running and laughing breathlessly.
Master Qui-Gon, smiling proudly at him after he had completed some tricky
exercise.
The taste of warm pie and hot chocolate in winter, when outside is snowing but
you're feeling warm and tired and you don't really have to go outside again.
The feeling of those late summer nights when the first stars come out amd
everything looks clean and beautiful and a little bit magic and it looks like
life is only beginning and all roads are open wide in front of you and you
don't really know if it is a dream or if it is real, you only know that you
don't want it to stop...
"It's over now. It's all over. No one can hurt you." Obi-Wan kept repeating,
over and over again.
Maul calmed down slightly, lulled by the images or by his words, but the Jedi
didn't stop until the Naboo rescue vehicles parked in the meadow in a cacophony
of noise, and a determined medic officer physically pried him away from his
charge and started some sort of treatment on the unconscious Sith. Only then
Obi-Wan realised how tired he was.
The Commander started asking him questions in a shrill, alarmed voice, but the
Jedi didn't manage to reply. He was out as a light in less than the time it
takes to say exhausted.
***** Hope and Shadows *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: implied violence/remembered torture, PTSD-ish moments,.
     That's still Darth Sidious to you people.
     Also, here is where the fic starts to get all medical-drama-y.
     Flame all you want, I'm fireproof.
When he woke up later with a blinding headache, Obi-Wan did not have the
foggiest clue of where he was. Disoriented, he took in the white walls and the
equipment, deducing it must be an infirmary. The Naboo must have already taken
them to the palace, he mused. His nose felt slightly stiff and as he raised a
hand to touch it, he felt a section of rough, thick plaster across it. He's
really managed to break it, then, he thought, still quite groggy. How long had
he been out of it?
"Master Kenobi! - someone exclaimed - You are awake!". The Jedi raised his head
off the pillow. It was a medical officer, not the one from the the meadow,
though. This one looked young and not unattractive, still slightly soft around
the edges.
"How long?" he replied hoarsely.
"How long what, sir?" the irritating healer retorted.
"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked again, finding his bearings to try
and stand.
"The whole night and pretty much all morning. It is nearly midday." she
replied.
"So long?!" he exclaimed, swinging his legs from the bed and standing gingerly.
His head was still killing him and he felt a little wobbly around the edges,
but he would manage.
"My superior says you were utterly exhausted when they found you." she offered.
Obi-Wan nodded in assent. That had been the most physically and psychologically
exhausting experience of his whole life.
"I've been asked to tell you that Grand Master Yoda and other two Masters are
waiting for you in the meeting room down the corridor." the healer said
cheerfully.
"They're already here?!" he commented, alarmed but not surprised.
The healer nodded. "They arrived early this morning. It must be because of the
prisoner." she added, nodding to herself.
"Maul... - Obi-Wan whispered - How is he? Have you got any news about him?" he
asked, worry rising in him like the tide.
"I have no idea, unfortunately. - she replied, shaking her pretty head - I was
not involved with treating him. The Masters asked me to tell you that they
wanted to meet you as soon as you woke up. It seemed urgent..." she then added.
Obi-Wan forced himself to put his worry aside and looked around the room for
clothes and footwear. His old clothes had been probably discarded and burned
along with his old boots, and he could not stand in front of the Masters in his
underwear.
"On the chair." the healer pointed out."I'll be waiting for you outside." she
added, leaving to give him a bit of privacy.
The Jedi dressed himself as quickly as his sore muscles and bruised bones
allowed and as he exited the infirmary he looked nearly exactly like he had
been before the whole ordeal had begun. Only he knew how much things had
changed.
The healer showed him to a door down the corridor and left to her other
business. Obi-Wan hesitated barely a moment in front of the closed door,
sensing three powerful Force signatures on the inside. It was not going to be a
walk in the park, he told to himself, but the sooner done the better. He took a
deep breath and pushed the button on the doorjamb and the panel slid away into
the wall with a soft pneumatic sound.
Obi-Wan strode in, finding himself not only in the presence of Grand Master
Yoda, but also of Masters Windu and Adi-Ki-Mundi. The full complement of the
Elders, he thought, asking himself what he had done to deserve the honour.
"Masters..." he greeted, bowing low despite the protests of his back.
"Young Obi-Wan, deeply worried for you we were." Yoda said, turning his big
green eyes towards him and examining him minutely, as if to certify himself
that he was still whole, that he was still the same.
"Thank you Grand Master Yoda." he managed to reply. The old Master's solicitude
instantly reminded him of Master Qui-Gon, sending a pang of grief coursing
through his soul. He stowed it away for the moment.
"So you've captured a Sith. - Master Windu continued, going straight to the
point as it was his custom - A truly noteworthy feat." he added with a
penetrating stare.
Obi-Wan expressed his thanks again, but did not volunteer more, keeping his
expression studiously neutral and schooling his emotions to his best, even if
his tongue burned with the need to ask them about him, how he was faring, if he
was even still alive.
"Strong in the Dark Side, the young Sith is." Yoda commented, nodding wisely.
"I know this must be hard for you, but we need you to tell us exactly what
happened." Master Ki-Adi-Mundi instructed, albeit in a very understanding and
compassionate way.
Obi-Wan took another deep breath and gave them a truthful but very abridged
version of the facts. Talking about Master Qui-Gon's fall renewed the pain and
the grief but he could not find any vestige of that terrible anger in himself
anymore.
"Very interesting this is." Yoda commented.
"Yes... You seem to have gone great lengths to preserve the prisoner's life.
Why?" Master Windu inquired sharply.
"Compassion is the essence of a Jedi. - Obi-Wan replied, true to form - He is a
person too and deserves mercy like anyone else."
The reply seemed to satisfy Windu, who let the topic drop.
"So what is going to happen now, if I may be so bold to ask?" Obi-Wan said.
"It's past time for your investiture, young one. After your gallant efforts, it
cannot be delayed any longer. - Master Ki-Adi-Mundi replied - Your Master was
quite adamant that young Anakin Skywalker needed to be trained in the path of
the Jedi. We have decided that this duty will rest on you." he added with a
grandfatherly smile.
"We'll leave as soon as the prisoner is stable, we are taking him in custody
from the Naboo. It won't be easy, but I'm sure we'll get the identity of his
Master out of him, one way or another." added Master Windu, with a slight
frown.
"Yes, exactly. - confirmed Ki-Adi-Mundi - In a few days you'll officially be a
Jedi Knight, young one. How do you like the idea?" he asked eyes twinkling in
good humour under his bushy brows.
Obi-Wan could not repress a shiver of excitement, but tried to keep calm. In
that moment, he could clearly see two paths opening up in front of him: if he
followed the expected one, expressing gratitude to the council and accepting
his post, he'd easily obtain everything he had always wished for, but he'd
leave Maul to the not too tender mercy of the Elders. He would not talk to
them, would not say anything and they would have to get the information out of
him by entering his mind. He'd resist them, defy them to the last and they
would break him. If he was lucky, he'd die, if not, he'd be left an empty shell
of a man and everything he was, everything he could have been would be lost
forever. The Elders were not cruel, but what was to them the life and sanity of
a single Darksider compared to the fate of the Galaxy? They did not know him,
they could not possibly know that there was still a bit of light left in him
that could be fanned into a bright fire. He was the only one to know. He could
ignore what he knew and go along with his life, or he could use this knowledge
and try to change things for the better.
"I'd be honoured, Masters, this is what I have been hoping for all my life,
but... I don't know how to say it and I know it is not my place to make
requests of you..." he started, mentally berating himself for muddling
everything up like that.
"What are you trying to say? Speak up!" Master Windu ordered.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I request to be assigned to the custody of the
prisoner instead. I believe I can make him cooperate." he blurted out, much
more assured than he really felt.
"Ah, do you now, young Padawan?" said Master Windu, transfixing him with the
sort of stare that made fully-fledged knights quiver in their pants and
padawans run for cover.
Obi-Wan held his ground, keeping his head high and his gaze level. "In fact I
do, Master Windu." he replied.
"And how do you propose to accomplish this? - the dark-skinned Jedi Master
insisted - By making puppy eyes at him? Or do you intend to torture him to
avenge your master?"
Obi-Wan forced himself not to react in any way to the provocation. "He trusts
me, to a certain extent, or is starting to. - he said calmly - There is some
light still left in him, I think that he could be convinced to abandon the path
of the Dark Side." he declared.
"Oh, look at him, not yet a Knight but he thinks he is wise enough to attempt
to reform a Sith. Where did you see that light, Padawan, that we could not?"
Master Windu continued, laying on the sarcasm and expecting that he would
desist, but he refused to let himself be cowed. They might be Masters and
incredibly powerful in the Force, but the Force spoke to him as well, and he
knew deep inside that it was an important battle to fight.
"He fought honourably. And he saved me, down in the tunnels. Without his help,
I would not be here with you now." he replied.
"Hardly a selfless act, if he needed you to support him to get out of there, as
you said earlier." Master Windu commented dryly.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "He was fully expecting to die, after that. He could
not walk any longer and he was so much in pain that he asked me to kill him."
he said, shivering slightly as the scene passed in front of his eyes again.
"And you refused and carried him out in your arms." Master Ki-Adi-Mundi
continued for him.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Exactly. I'm sure he had not planned for that."
"Are you really so sure, young one? - Master Ki-Adi-Mundi continued - The Sith
are cunning and play long games. Maybe he was fully expecting that you would be
unable to kill him in cold blood and had orchestrated everything to gain your
goodwill and sympathy in order to sway you."
"Mission most easily accomplished, it seems." Master Windu interjected,
sneering.
Obi-Wan felt a current of irritation course through him. "I don't think this
would be his style. He's a fighter, not an agent provocateur. I mean, look at
him!" he retorted. Maul would be bored silly by that sort of thing, he was
sure. What he really was in for was fighting. That was also the only thing his
Master had trained him in.
"Not his style? Do you know him so well?" Master Windu asked again.
Obi-Wan sighed. He would not be able to talk his way out of this if he did not
speak of what the had seen, he just knew it, but it did not feel right to tell
them everything. It was too personal and he was sure that Maul wouldn't want
even him to have known.
"While we were in the tunnels, he lost consciousness, then something strange
happened. - he narrated quietly, still marvelling himself at the events - It
was as if his mind had become permeable and I saw what was in it, so yes, in a
way I know him well." he declared.
Master Windu opened his mouth as if to speak, but Obi-Wan was already fed up
with his sarcasm and anticipated him.
"No, I don't think he has shown me only what he wanted me to see. - he declared
dryly - First he was unconscious, and second I don't think he would have wanted
anyone to see what I saw. He is not some kind of diabolic Sith mastermind, but
some young bloke who has been unloved and alone, used and abused since he was a
little kid, and made into a weapon for his Master. He has been raised in a
little artificial world where the Sith values were absolute truth and he had
nothing to compare it to. He never had a choice to be on the Dark Side or not."
he said.
The Masters didn't say anything and Obi-Wan had the impression that they were
waiting for him to finish his reasoning, so he ploughed on.
"I know, he killed my Master, and I will always grieve for him, but it was a
honourable duel. The prisoner fought better and prevailed. I cannot find anger
and hate in me for that. - he added wearily - I think we should give him the
choice he has always been denied, show him that there is another way." he
concluded, panting slightly with the effort of explaining himself.
"Master Qui-Gon is not dead." Master Windu revealed.
"What?!" Obi-Wan blurted out, elated and confused and half-afraid that it would
be a dream or a terrible sort of joke.
"He is still alive. - Master Windu confirmed - A medical officer got to him in
time after you and the Sith fell in the reactor. He is gravely wounded though."
he added gravely.
"The tip of the saber nicked his spine. - Master Ki-Adi-Mundi explained - The
Naboo have a very good spinal surgery unit here on Theed, but it will take him
a long time to recover. At least six months, more probably close to a year. He
is adamant that young Skywalker is to be trained, but that needs to be done
soon."
"It is already late enough. - Master Windu pressed on - You have a duty towards
the child, Kenobi."
"I have a duty towards Maul as well, Master." Obi-Wan retorted.
Now that he knew his Master was alive, he saw even more clearly that the Force
had meant for them to meet, that he was meant to help him. He faced the three
Masters with renewed hope and determination.
"Ah. Are you on a first-name basis with the Sith already?" Master Windu asked
archly.
"He is not a true Sith. There were three, a Master, an Apprentice and him. He
was the odd man out." Obi-Wan replied, eluding the question.
"And how do you know?" the dark-skinned Master insisted, narrowing his eyes.
"You surely must have felt the upheaval in the Dark Side yesterday night,
Master... - Obi-Wan insinuated - Down in the tunnels we did. Maul realised he
has been used by his mentor. Now he doubts the Dark Side. He can find the way,
I am sure." he added passionately, but Windu just looked at him with cold black
eyes and didn't say a word. The other two Masters were equally silent and Obi-
Wan felt a veil of despair descend on his thoughts.
"I have nothing more to say. - he declared wearily - If you trust me and have
faith in me, please, give us this chance. If you don't, then I do not see how I
can continue serving in this Order." he said with finality, feeling a twinge of
fear inside his heart. Everything was in balance now. He could lose everything
he had ever worked for, just for a guy who had been nothing to him just a few
days before.
"This is outrageous!" Master Windu exclaimed, incensed. Master Yoda, who had
observed the whole scene without saying a single word, tapped his stick on the
floor with a loud crack.
"Silence! - he commanded - Your tale most extraordinary is, young Padawan, but
not unheard of. Wise are your words. If a man can be redeemed, try we must. The
prisoner you will guard and help find the way. Your sole responsability he will
be. Young Anakin among the younglings will remain until you succeed or give
up." he announced.
Obi-Wan repressed his joy and relief and simply nodded. "Thank you, Grand
Master Yoda. I will be worthy of the faith you have put in me."
"Hmmm... See that you do. Now to him you must go. The battle with the Dark Side
won has not yet been." Yoda replied.
"Of course, Master! - he assented - May I tell Anakin of your decisions?"
Yoda nodded. "You may."
"And may I visit Master Qui-Gon?" he asked again, feeling like a youngling
pleading for a favour.
"Of course you can, young Kenobi. -Master Ki-Adi-Mundi replied - He is still
very weak, though. You'll have to ask his doctor about visiting."
"But he is out of the woods, isn't he?" Obi-Wan inquired timidly, fearing the
answer.
"He is. Now it is just a matter of patience and perseverance." the Cerean
Master explained. Obi-Wan felt like hugging him, but limited himself to a
heartfelt thanks and a bow.
Yoda nodded again. " Rejoice we all do. Off you go now, Padawan. Time is short.
May the Force be with you."
Knowing that he had been dismissed, Obi-Wan bowed stiffly and scampered away
before they could change idea.
The corridor was empty when he emerged.
He retraced his steps towards the infirmary, looking for someone to give him
information, but it appeared that nobody was around. Obi-Wan sighed and opened
one of the doors at random. It appeared to be a ward, with a full complement of
medical equipment and four beds, all occupied by Naboo soldiers injured in the
battle. A medical droid zipped towards him.
"What do you think you are doing here? - it asked, in a tone that was quiet but
evidently irritated - These are not visiting hours!"
"Apologies ma'am. - Obi-Wan replied, embarrassed - I'm looking for the Sith
prisoner."
The droid whirred and clicked in thought for a moment. "Male Zabrak, extensive
abdominal wound and infection?" it asked, evidently thinking about its patients
in terms of diseases and injuries.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes ma'am."
The droid revolved on its central wheel, facing the direction from which Obi-
Wan had come. "Second door to the left. Isolation ward. - it pointed out -
You'll need clearance from the Jedi Elders for this."
"I have it. I'm in charge of the prisoner from now on." Obi-Wan replied.
The droid whirred again in silence. "Then this solves it. - it said finally -
Good luck to you Master Jedi." it added, nearly slamming the door of the ward
in his face, without leaving him the time to inquire about Master Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head. Medical droids were a weird lot, but at
least he had part of the information he wanted. Retracing his steps, he stopped
in front of the right door for a moment, taking a deep breath, then activated
the switch and strode in with trepidation.
The room was occupied by a single bed, surrounded by several different pieces
of medical equipment. Maul lay there, still unconscious. Tubes, cables and IV
drips connected him to the various pieces of equipment, monitoring parameters
and delivering various fluids and drugs. An ECG monitor beeped steadily and the
the spikes succeeded each other regularly, albeit at a different rhythm than a
human's would.
Obi-Wan walked closer to the bed. Maul looked strangely frail and young lying
there against the off-white sheets. From his behaviour and ability, Obi-Wan had
thought that he must be older than himself upon first meeting him, but now he
realised that they must be very close in age or that Maul would be younger than
him, not much more than a lad.
His patterned brows were furrowed and his hands clenched upon the sheets, as if
even in his dreams he was fighting against something.
Obi-Wan gently brushed his fingers against his hand, feeling the skin nearly
burning under his touch, and extended his Force-presence to gently rest against
Maul's.
The now-familiar stream of images hit him, staggering him even as he was
bracing for it. He accepted it, allowing the boundaries between their
perceptions to blur.
Being helpless and out of control clearly sent the Darksider's mind spinning
towards the worst experiences of his life. The Dark Side preached that only
power counted and that the weak should expect no mercy or respite beyond what
could be granted or taken away at a whim of their masters, that they were safe
only as long as they were useful.
Maul had learned that from experience and now he was terrified of being
powerless again, but Obi-Wan fully intended to show him that it need not be so.
Over the frail bridge that had formed between them, he tried to send peaceful
memories and nice feelings, so that Maul could use them as an anchor to keep
himself calm and evade the maelstrom of darkness that was threatening to engulf
him.
"You are not alone now. - he whispered - I'll be right beside you when you need
me."
Wild yellow eyes shot open. "Obi-Wan..." Maul rasped, his voice muffled by the
oxygen mask that covered his mouth and nose. His hand wrapped around the Jedi's
wrist, as if holding him there.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. - Obi-Wan said softly, with an encouraging
smile - I told you we'd both make it."
Maul nodded weakly, closing his eyes again. "'M so tired... Can't fight it..."
he slurred, clearly affected by the fever and whatever painkillers they were
giving him.
"Just sleep. I'll be here to watch your back." Obi-Wan said warmly.
Maul nodded again and squeezed his wrist gently. He was out as a light again in
a moment, but his mind was much calmer now. He was hanging on to his presence
as a source of comfort, like one would cling to a rope to haul himself out of
quicksand. To Obi-Wan it was both heart-wrenching and humbling that he should
be the one to give him strength.
The door to the ward opened with a puff of air and a whirr and the senior
medical officer he had met at the stream stalked in, arms akimbo and clearly
demanding an explanation for his presence. "What do you think you are doing
here, young man? - she said, transfixing him with her steely eyes - This is an
isolation ward." she announced.
"And I'm here to watch over the prisoner by order of the Jedi Council." he
replied assuredly. Maul's grip on his wrist had weakened as he relaxed in
sleep, so he held his hand in his own, unwilling to break the contact for now.
He needed rest to recover, not to fight his way out of countless
nightmares."Then the Jedi Council is wasting your time, my lad. This one 's not
going anywhere for a while, if ever." she barked, moving to a terminal and
scanning through screen after screen of data.
"How... How bad it actually is?" he asked, as quiet as he could.
The doctor stared at him long and hard before replying and Obi-Wan nearly
trembled with dread.
"He's been patched up all right, even if he was in a right mess. I've done it
myself. - she explained with professional pride - Lightsaber wounds always
leave clear edges and don't bleed much, but..." she added, shaking her head.
Her big earrings, only ornament of her severe, nearly military figure, tinkled
loudly.
"But...?" Obi-Wan repeated.
"I'll be frank with you, young man. He's a fit young fellow, but he's got
himself a nasty and deep infection from his trip in the waste-pit. I'm doing my
best and giving him the best and most powerful antibiotics I've got, but it's
not absolutely guaranteed that he'll make it. - she revealed - That even if he
does not get himself a heart attack or dies of exhaustion because of his night
terrors." she added.
"What are the chances?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep the dread and anxiety he
was experiencing from reaching Maul through the Force-bridge between them.
"I'd say 50%. - she replied tonelessly - He's got 50% chances of making it,
more if he finally manages to rest."
"I'll see that he does, ma'am." Obi-Wan said, squeezing Maul's hand as if
trying to reassure him.
"Do you actually have to stay here and hold his hand?" she asked, rather
baffled.
Obi-Wan acquiesced. "It'll help, at least to start with. I can shield him
better if we touch."
She shook her head. "I see. I'll never fully understand how mind-linking works,
I was crap at most Force manifestations, but any port in a storm, as they say.
" she said ruefully.
Obi-Wan blinked in confusion, then adjusted his tuning into the flow of the
Force and now that he know where to look for it, he realised that the doctor
had a Force-presence of her own, not very strong but definite and clear,
evidently trained.
"Are you a Jedi as well?" he asked hesitantly. If she was, he had never seen
her before.
"I never made it through the Initiate Trials. I have a limited gift.- she
revealed - But I served in the MediCorps for eight years before coming home to
study medicine for another eight years at Theed University. Is that enough for
you, or are you one of those assholes who think that Jedi are the only ones
worth something?" she asked, crossing her arms on her chest.
"I... Yes, I mean. - Obi-Wan stammered, cheeks burning in embarrassment - I
didn't mean to offend you, madam. It's just... I've never met a Jedi-trained
doctor outside the Temple before." he explained weakly.
"Well, now you have. They should let you people out of the gates a bit more, so
you'd see what the real world is like. - she grumbled - I'll find you a chair."
she added then, more gently.
"That would be much appreciated." he said, genuinely relieved.
The doctor took a folding chair from a cupboard and opened it, placing it next
to Obi-Wan, who sank down with gratitude: he was not yet fully recovered from
the battle. Crossing his legs on the seat, he nodded to the doctor and closed
his eyes, starting a meditation exercise. He could feel Maul's presence still
clinging to his own. It was not a bad feeling, for some reason.
"I'll leave you to do your thing, then, my lad." the doctor said, still
slightly dubious.
Obi-Wan nodded, barely paying attention and soon he felt her presence leave the
room.
The Jedi focused on his breath and emptied his mind, putting all feelings
aside. There was no worry for his Master or Maul, no anxiety on Anakin's
behalf. He left all worries behind for a while as he became one with the Force.
Some time later, a hand shook Obi-Wan's shoulder, wrenching him away from his
meditative trance. His blue eyes shot open, focusing on the doctor.
"Are you feeling alright, young man?" she asked, frowning in concern.
He blinked and frowned as well. "I'm fine, ma'am, why do you ask?" he inquired,
rather puzzled.
"You felt strange in the Force, I was worried." she explained.
"Maul's mind shield is down. I'm covering him with mine. I must have felt all
over the place." Obi-Wan replied.
"That you did, my lad." she confirmed, nodding to herself.
"How long has it been?" he asked, noticing the change in the quality of the
light that filtered through the curtains.
"A couple of hours. - she replied - I don't know exactly how, but what you did
has worked. He's never had two unbroken hours of rest ever since the general
anesthesia wore off." she commented cheerfully.
Obi-Wan glanced at the bed. Maul appeared to be fast and peacefully asleep, his
breath even and his features relaxed. Obi-Wan felt inordinately happy about
this, however it was now time to deal with his other assignment.
"Glad to be of help. - he said, with a warm smile - I need to leave for a
while, will you inform me if the situation changes in any way?"
"Sure, why not? He's your prisoner, after all. - she assented - Do you have a
commlink?"
Obi-Wan handed his over and the doctor docked it into the room terminal and
quickly tapped some codes on the touchscreen to register his contact.
"I'll let you know if anything happens and I'll tell my colleague from the
night shift to do the same, if that's OK with you." she said, handing the
commlink back to him.
"I'll be back well before the night shift begins- Obi-Wan reassured her - It'll
be just an hour or so, I hope."
It all hinged on how understanding Anakin proved to be under the circumstances.
He was a bright boy, but quite headstrong, and he had formed a strong
attachment to Master Qui-Gon in the scant few days they had spent together. He
was bound to be upset and angry about what happened, and he did not have years
of training to fall back onto as the other younglings would have acquired after
years of schooling at the Temple.
It could be tough.
The doctor eyed him sceptically. "Try not to burn yourself out, my lad. I know
you want to help, but even you Jedi have limits and you won't be able to help
your mate there if you are falling around in exhaustion." she admonished
sternly, gesturing towards the bed.
"I'll be fine, ma'am. - he reassured - We'll both be fine, you'll see." He let
go of Maul's hand and lay it back down on the covers, but he did not let the
more immaterial contact fall. Through the mind-bridge he felt only calm.
Reassured, he strode away from the bed. "See you later, doctor." he said, and
slid out of the room.
Now, where would Anakin be, if left to his own devices? Either with Padme, or
in the hangar, dabbling with something mechanic, he judged.
He concentrated briefly and quickly found the boy's bright Force-signature. He
followed it through the corridors and down to the ground floor and then into an
area at the back of the palace and into a suite of rooms slightly detached from
the main body of the building. He felt the connection he had established with
Maul fade with the distance, but did not worry much about it. He was sure Maul
would be fine on his own for a while. He opened the door behind which Anakin's
presence was located and, predictably, found himself in some kind of mechanical
workshop.
Anakin was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a magnetic screwdriver and a
set of other tools handy next to him, all intent at taking the engine of a
Naboo fighter apart.
Obi-Wan approachd him silently and sat down next to him. The boy was so
concentrated that he only noticed him when he called his name. "Anakin..."
Startled, the boy nearly dropped his tool. "Obi-Wan! I didn't hear you coming.
- he said, slightly embarrassed - I thought you were still in the infirmary.
Are you feeling better now?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "No lasting damage, apart from my nose. - he declared smiling -
I'm sorry to have left you alone in the last day or so.""It's alright. - Anakin
said, shrugging - Padme gave me a room in the palace and I've been mostly
hanging around with the rest of the pilots. They have kind of adopted me, after
we've taken down the flagship of the Feds..." he added with a certain pride.
"You've done what?" Obi-Wan asked, wide eyed.
"I didn't mean to, but you told me to take cover and the fighter I had hidden
into just took off. I was along for the ride anyway, so I did my best to help.
What else could have I done?" he retorted, slightly, but not too much,
apologetic.
Obi-Wan sighed. What was he supposed to do with this kid? He was a brave lad,
even too bright for his own good and ready to help his fellows at the drop of a
hat. Should he try to curb his inclinations? He didn't really feel like
berating him at the moment, even if maybe he should.
"It must not have been too hard after you career as a podracer." he commented.
"It was tough, instead. You don't usually move in the third dimension in
podracing, and no one tries to gun you down." the boy replied, shaking his
blond, shaggy head.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked, worry seeping into his mind.
Anakin shrugged again. "I was scared. - he admitted - Some of the other pilots
did not make it, but if the Feds had conquered Theed it would have been much
worse, wouldn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, it would. You were very brave." the Jedi said, squeezing the boy's thin
shoulder in reassurance.
"I even got a medal. - the boy said, pointing to a small gold-and-red
decoration pinned to the front of his tunic - Padme gave it to me... Well, she
gave one to all of us, but... Will I be able to keep it when I'm a Jedi?" he
asked, giving Obi-Wan his best puppy eyes.
"I'm not sure, kiddo." he answered truthfully.
Prospective padawans did not have anything to leave behind when they started
proper training with a Knight, as they had been mostly raised in the Temple for
as long as they could remember. Anakin was a special case, he was much older
than usual, he had been with his family until a few days before, and was deeply
attached to his mother. He had had a life beyond the Temple and Obi-Wan did not
really know how much the usual rules would actually apply to him. They probably
would have to make a new set just for him.
"Will they even want me, now that Master Qui-Gon is... now that he is ill? -
Anakin continued - I went to see him yesterday. He was in a tank and he
couldn't hear me." he revealed, shaking his head sadly.
"That must have been bacta. It will make him feel better sooner." Obi-Wan
explained.
"Oh. He looked very, very ill, though. It was scary. - the boy confessed - They
say he will not be able to walk for months, so he can't start training me. And
I know I'm too old and maybe you don't... You know, maybe you don't want to
train me... because maybe I won't be any good at it... And if no one will train
me... They offered me a job here, you know? In the fleet. They'd pay for my
training and all. I'd have money to provide for myself and I'd save some to buy
my mom's freedom from Watto." he revealed, perking up again towards the end.
That was unexpected, Obi-Wan thought, but maybe it was for the best.
He could not easily see Anakin shedding his passionate nature and leaving his
feelings for his mother behind. On the other hand, the boy had one of the
strongest Force-signatures he had ever encountered, almost as bright as Yoda's.
Talent such as that was not easily kept dormant and could cause terrible
problems if some measure of control was not put in place.
The decision of assigning him to a clan of younglings could not be any wiser:
it would allow him to receive some basic training and get used to the rules of
the Order. Only then it would be apparent whether Anakin was really suited to
the way of the Jedi. At least he would have something else to fall back on if
he wasn't. It was a safety net most Jedi Initiates didn't have.
"Don't be silly, Ani, you have enormous talent. You'll be a great Jedi, one of
the greatest." he said only.
"Then you'll train me?" Anakin asked, all excited.
"Things are a bit more complicated than that, Ani. - he replied - The Council
has assigned me to the custody of the prisoner for the time being. You'll stay
with other kids your age for a while, so you'll have time to make friends and
see if you like being in the Order. And maybe by then Master Qui-Gon will be
well enough to train you himself."
"The rules are tough. I'm not sure I will be able to follow them all." the boy
admitted seriously.
"Well, if you think life in the Order is not for you, I'm sure you'll have a
brilliant career as a fighter pilot in the Royal Naboo Fleet." he reassured the
boy, patting him gently on the back.
Anakin smiled, then became serious again. "And what if I'm alright with it?
Will you train me then if Master Qui-Gon is not OK yet?" he asked.
"Of course I will! - he replied - I'd be honoured to, if the council approves."
"I can't see why they should not. You're good at this, you even captured a
Sith!" the boy exclaimed.
"Yes, I did, but that is not the only thing that counts." he retorted.
"Obi-Wan is the Sith the one who... did he... was he the one who nearly killed
Master Qui-Gon?" Anakin asked, now gloomy like rain in winter.
Obi-Wan nodded, his heart wrenching again at the memory.
"I'm glad you nearly killed him back, then. I wish you killed him full stop, so
he wouldn't be able to hurt nice people anymore." Anakin continued.
"He surrendered, Ani. You don't kill people who are defenseless or have given
up. It is wrong." he explained
"But..." the boy started to protest, but Obi-Wan did not let him finish the
sentence.
"Would his death have made Master Qui-Gon better?" he asked.
Anakin shook his head ruefully.
"Then there was no reason to kill him. People get wounded and even die in a
war, Ani, it will always be like this as long as wars keep being fought. But
when it's over you need to forgive, otherwise there will never be peace." he
explained.
"But he is a Sith. He is evil." the boy still objected.
"He's done many bad things, yes, killed a lot of people, but he's not
completely gone to the Dark Side yet. - he replied - He's still honourable and
he saved my life. I nearly got eaten by a... thing and he chased it away."
"Then why did he let himself fall to the Dark Side?" the boy asked, perplexed.
Obi-Wan hesitated. To tell or not to tell him the story?
"He didn't properly fall, as such. - he started, going for an expurgated
version of the truth - When he was a kid, way younger than you are, he ended up
as a slave to this older Sith and he trained him to be a killer. He has been
very badly treated and has never known anything else until now. He is like...
all confused about what is right and what is wrong." he revealed.
"But if he is a killer and the other Sith treated him so badly, why didn't he
kill him dead?" the boy objected.
'Well, it's not that easy. The other Sith has raised him, he must be important
to him. Like a really, really evil father, sort of." Obi-Wan hypothesised.
"Ah, I know! - Anakin exclaimed - There was this family in Mos Espa. A widower
and his son. They had a moisture farm, one of the small ones. The father was a
drunkard and he beat the crap out of the kid nearly every day, but when another
drunkard attacked his father in a bar brawl, the kid jumped in to defend his
father and nearly killed the drunk with a bottle. He would have done anything
for his father, even if he treated him like crap." he said.
"His father must be the only thing the boy has." Obi-Wan commented.
"Yes, but it is sad, is it not?" Anakin sighed.
"Yes, very sad." Obi-Wan agreed.
"So what will you do with the Sith?" Anakin asked
"His name is Maul." Obi-Wan clarified.
Anakin arched an eyebrow. "As in the verb?"
"I'm afraid so." he admitted.
Anakin stifled a giggle. "Sorry, I know it's not funny, but in a way it is, you
know? Anyway, what will be of him?" he asked.
"He needs to heal first, then I'll try to help him sort himself out. There is
Light enough in him and he is strong enough to find his way out of the Dark,
I'm sure." he said.
Anakin grimaced. "You like him." he accused.
"He's not bad when he does not remember that he should be hating everyone."
Obi-Wan replied, almost apologetically.
"I'd like to meet him."Anakin said.
"I'll arrange for you two to meet as soon as he is better." Obi-Wan promised.
"The troopers are saying that he's all red and black and horned like a devil.
Is it true?" the boy asked, curious and slightly weirded out at the same time.
"He's a Zabrak, from Iridonia. They all have horns and tattoos. - Obi-Wan
explained - There are a couple of other Jedi from Iridonia at the Temple.
Fierce people, all of them."
"Wow! - Anakin exclaimed - There must be a lot of interesting people at the
Temple..."
"You'll meet them all in due time. I think the Masters will be bringing you
back there when they go." Obi-Wan said, trying to allay his excitement.
"Oh! And when would that be?" Anakin asked, looking disappointed.
"A few days, I think. - guessed- I'll probably be staying a bit longer, at
least until Maul is a bit better, but it won't be very long before we see each
other again."
"And then you'll be my teacher." Anakin concluded.
"Only if you agree to train as a Jedi." Obi-Wan retorted.
"I'll think deeply about it. - the boy promised, all solemn and serious - Is
that your commlink going off?" he added, pointing to the device in his pocket,
which had just started beeping and vibrating.
Obi-Wan nodded and extracted the thing out of his pocket with a certain
anxiety.
"Doctor?" he said in the speaker.
"Time to get yourself back here, my lad. Your friend here is having another
fit." she announced.
"I'll be there in ten." Obi-Wan replied, closing the communication and shooting
to his feet.
"Gotta go, Ani." he told the boy, who looked rather dejected.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know. I have to ho to help the doctor. I'll see you again tomorrow,
don't worry." he reassured. There was no way he was divulging the fact that
Maul was so weak from the wound and the infection that he could not keep his
mind shields up. He would not have wanted it.
"OK. See ya!" Anakin said, unconvinced.
Obi-Wan waved a goodbye and darted along the corridors, towards the infirmary.
"Quickly, do whatever you did before. He's worked himself into a frenzy again!"
the doctor greeted him, as he came through the door.
Maul was tossing and turning on the bed, struggling against... restraints? Why
had the doctor strapped him to the bed?
"He was delirious! And he was trying to sit up! - she explained, probably
following his line of thought - I tried to calm him down through the Force, but
I couldn't reach him. I had no choice! He would have reopened the wound!"
Obi-Wan did not waste any time replying and rushed to Maul's bedside, throwing
the connection open again.
He had anticipated that it would not be pretty, but not how bad it would
actually be.
Triggered by the straps, Maul was reliving the memory of when he had gotten his
tattoos.
His mind was a jumble of pain and terror, as control was stripped from him and
inch by inch his whole body experienced burning agony.
Nearby his Master watched impassively as the marks of his ownership were etched
on him and he could not even bring himself to scream out of fear of
disappointing him with his weakness.
Feeling like he was going to retch, Obi-Wan tried to concentrate on something
soothing, to lure him away from that horror.
He was on the bank of a river, barefoot on the grass, and the sun was high and
warm above him. Master Qui-Gon was teaching him to fish and they laughed and
the war was far, far away.
The vastness of space the first time he remembered flying in a spaceship. The
universe was a deep blue-black cloth and the stars looked like pearls of
different colours and diamond dust and he could not tear his eyes away from it.
The first and only kiss Siri had ever given him, wet and sweet and awkward, and
how they had laughed afterwards, until tears were streaming out of their eyes.
Little by little, Maul calmed down again, and the other memory faded back to
where it had come from.
He was clinging hard to his presence, as if that could reassure him that
nothing wrong would happen. Obi-Wan exhaled a deep sigh of relief and quickly
undid the restrains, tossing the padded leather straps to the ground angrily.
"Whatever happens, don't do this again." he barked at the doctor. The true
object of his anger, however, was not the hapless medic, but the cloaked figure
from Maul's memories. If only he could get his hands on that bastard...No, he
needed to calm down, otherwise he would not be of any help. He needed to keep
the contact between them up at all times, or as close as he could manage, until
the fever broke and Maul regained control of his mind shields. It might be a
while, if the infection was as nasty as the doctor thought, but he would not
baulk.
"I'll need a place to sleep as close as possible to here." he told the doctor,
as he rubbed hopefully soothing circles on the back of Maul's hand. The tattoos
drew patterns along the bones. Luminara, one of his fellow Padawans who hailed
from Miriale, had once told him that face and hands were the most painful
places to get ink done on. These tattoos stood for something terrible like the
marks of a slave, but they were beautiful, he caught himself thinking.
"There is a bunk bed behind that door. Usually it is for nurses." the doctor
said, looking quite surprised by his reaction.
"I'll wear a sexy white outfit if you prefer." he replied, deadpan, then
mentally berated himself for being so unpleasant. She had no fault in this, she
was only trying to help.
The doctor just lifted an eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind seeing that." she said,
giving him an appreciative once-over.
Obi-Wan flushed, feeling rather stupid.
The doctor laughed, feeling suddenly very familiar. Where had he already seen
that smile and that slightly upturned nose?
"I didn't mean to scare you, young man. It's alright. - she reassured him- If
you bunk here, however, you will be on call all the time if something happens
to your mate here or any other of my patients, do you understand?"
"I do, madam, but I think there will be no more emergencies, as long as I can
keep in range all the time." Obi-Wan said.
"If you say so... - she conceded, shrugging - Anyway, here is the room and stop
calling me madam, I'm not that old." she protested, opening another door and
revealing a rather cramped compartment with two spaceship-style berths and a
door. That probably led to a refresher. It was all very basic, but it would do
for a while.
"How should I call you, then?" he asked.
"I'm doctor Sadè Naberrie, but you can call me Doc." she replied.
Obi-Wan looked back at her with a very confused expression.
So that was why she felt so familiar... The likeness between them was eerie,
now that he thought about it. Give some twenty years and take the soft edges
and the ridiculously long hair away, she could be the twin of Queen Amidala.
"Are you..." he started to ask.
"No, just her aunt. - Doc chimed in, shaking her head - Her father and me, we
are twins. People used to mistake us for each other all the time when we were
kids. Anyway, I hope the room is OK." she added with a goofy smile.
"It'll be perfect." he replied with a smile of his own.
Doc nodded. "As long as you remain here, you'll have to obey to me in any
medical matter, understood?" she continued, back to her businesslike demeanour.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm with the Jedi, we're trained to obey."
"Yes, I know. Poor things... - she said wistfully - Your mate is lucky to have
you around to help." she commented.
"He's not my friend. He's a prisoner." Obi-Wan protested.
"If you say so... - said Doc, raising an eyebrow in doubt - I'll pop by the
other wards, if something happens, hit the "doctor on call" button on the
terminal to contact me, alright?" she instructed.
Obi-Wan acquiesced and followed her into the main room of the ward, letting the
door close behind him. He sat down by the bed as she left, casting a glance
towards the sleeping Darksider.
Maul could not by any stretch of the definition be called his friend, he told
himself, as if trying to convince himself. He was not getting attached to him,
it wasn't just against the rules, it would be totally daft. Maybe Maul was not
a proper Sith, but he was still a Darksider, and he would be a Jedi Knight soon
enough. Friendship between them would be absurd.
But if he turned away from the Dark...
If he was just Maul, the crazy, brave and sarcastic bastard that had saved him
in the tunnel and that still clung to a shard of light despite everything, then
it would be easy for him to like him, to desire his friendship. It would
actually be hard for him not to.
Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to stop fantasizing and
just let himself feel.
Maul's Force-presence was like a banked fire next to him. Through the bridge
between them, he caught a glimpse of green fields and movement, excitation and
utter lack of concern. He was dreaming something pleasant, finally, he noticed
with satisfaction.
There was hope yet, and he would make sure that it would stay alive.
***** Intensive Care *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     Warning: a bit of bad language and some manly tears.
     Flame all you want, I'm fireproof.
The room where Master Qui-Gon was staying was in a different section of the
hospital from where he was doing his improvised residency, but the decor and
the smell of bacta were identical.
Master Qui-Gon was lying in the bed at the center of the room, awake and
looking a bit tired but otherwise fine. Looking at his face and at his clear,
wise eyes, it didn't look like he had nearly died not a week before. His limbs,
however, were held in a complicated apparatus that prevented him from moving
and misaligning the reconstructed bits of his spine. It didn't look
comfortable, but Master Qui-Gon didn't appear to mind.
"Obi-Wan!" the older Jedi exclaimed, as soon as he saw him step in.
"Master... - Obi-Wan greeted, smiling so much that his face almost hurt - I am
sorry that I didn't manage to come earlier..." he started to apologise.
"It's not your fault, young one. They took me out of bacta only yesterday
evening." Qui-Gon interrupted him.
"I heard that from Doc, but we were a bit busy delivering a baby..." Obi-Wan
explained apologetically.
"Doc?" Master Qui-Gon inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Doctor Sadé Naberrie. - he explained - she is looking after M... after the
prisoner, and is giving me some medical training as well. You never know when
it might come in handy." he added, hoping that his Master wouldn't notice the
slip of his tongue.
"The name rings a bell." Master Qui-Gon commented.
"She was at the Jedi Temple, Medi-Corps, then she left for university." Obi-Wan
replied, relieved for the distraction.
Qui-Gon's eyes widened in surprise. "Don't you say... I remember her. She was a
very bright girl. Very dedicated as well. - he reminisced - The Galaxy is not
such a big place, it appears..." he commented.
"Yeah, indeed. - Obi-Wan confirmed cheerfully - How are you feeling Master?" he
asked, worry filtering through his armour of calm. He had discreetly checked
his vital parameters on the monitors, as he had started to do almost
subconsciously ever since starting his training with Doc, and they looked
normal, but that didn't mean much. A person could be stable and still feel like
crap.
"All considered, reasonably well. - he replied sedately - I am still alive, and
the doctors are very optimistic about my complete recovery. Yesterday evening I
could almost feel my toes again." he added cheerfully.
Obi-Wan forced himself to smile, forcing his guilt to the background. Probably
part of it was borrowed, but he still felt uncomfortable about how his
immediate worry for Maul had put the more remote worry for his Master in the
back burner. He should have come to visit him earlier, he chided himself.
"Master Windu told me you are going back to the Temple with them tomorrow."
Obi-Wan said, switching subject.
"I am, indeed. - Qui-Gon confirmed - Master Windu is convinced that they will
be able to treat me better there." he explained.
Obi-Wan gave him a perplexed look.
"This hospital is top-notch. Especially compared to some butcheries we have
ended up in." he objected.
"Oh, yes. I shudder at the thought. - Qui-Gon agreed - I have a suspicion that
the quality of the treatment is not the issue. They might be worried about any
Sith agents left in Theed. You are staying behind, right?" he asked.
Obi-Wan nodded, wondering where Qui-Gon might be aiming at with his question.
"Yes, Master. Maul... I mean, the prisoner is not yet well enough to be
transported anywhere." he replied, feeling his cheeks burn and his anxiety
spike as his tongue slipped. What would his Master think of the fact that he
was on a first name basis with the person who had nearly killed him and reduced
him to lie in bed for the next six months to a year? It must sound like
betrayal.
Qui-Gon smiled gently. "It's alright, young one. - he reassured - Master Yoda
told me about what happened to you and him after I was wounded. I know you are
trying to reform him. It is a noble endeavor." he said.
"I... I am glad that you approve, Master." Obi-Wan said with relief.
"And if I didn't, would you desist?" Qui-Gon asked.
"No. - Obi-Wan answered immediately, without even having to pause for thought -
I feel that it is the right thing to do. That it is important." he added,
trying to soften his statement, but feeling an acute sense of frustration at
his inability to convey the urgency and the weight of that feeling.
"Now you know how it feels when the Force shows you the potential of a person.
" Qui-Gon said.
"Yes, Master. Look, I am sorry for all the times I got irritated with you for
following these feelings. - Obi-Wan apologised - I suppose you cannot
understand until you actually feel it."
"You've grown a lot, young one." Qui-Gon commented, sounding pleased and maybe
proud.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I suppose it happens when you are thrown in at the deep
end." he minimised.
"You feel more mature, more experienced in the Force. Even your signature is
different." Qui-Gon insisted.
"Bugger!" Obi-Wan thought. It had been rather optimistic to think that his
Master wouldn't notice that there was something unusual in him.
While Grand Master Yoda had been his usual inscrutable self, Windu and Adi-Ki
Mundi had been less then thrilled to discover that he had accidentally mind-
linked with a Darksider. Probably people would flip the lid if they knew that
he was still doing it, and that now it was intentional and long-term. Obi-Wan
felt a probing tendril of Force come his way from his Master and in a moment of
panic considered cutting the link and playing coy, but that would mean leaving
Maul alone with his still-weakened shields and those memories pressing upon his
mind.
It was already bad enough that he had to live through that once, making him go
through that again would be too cruel.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, accepting his Master's
probing. He didn't have anything to hide. What he was doing might have been
reckless, but it wasn't in disagreement with the tenets of the Jedi Order, he
reassured himself.
"Oh, my dear boy... - Qui-Gon whispered, looking at him almost with awe - This
thing you are doing... I heard of it, but I've never seen it done. You must
have grown very much in the Force." he concluded.
Obi-Wan blushed. "I'm not doing anything that special." he said defensively.
"I say that you are. Force-bonding is an ancient technique whose precise
details got lost in the fall of the Old Republic. - he explained - It is also a
very risky technique, one that should not be attempted lightly." he added with
a weighty gaze, as if to warn him.
"It wasn't that hard to get this thing started. - Obi-Wan replied with a shrug
- We did it by chance. And anyway it wasn't like there was much choice. The
prisoner... Maul... His wound got infected and for some reason it wrecked his
mind shields. He was delirious and hallucinating. I just... I don't know how to
explain it... I just gave him an anchor to something better, just showed him
some peace."
Trapped in that apparatus, Qui-Gon couldn't actually nod, but Obi-Wan saw a
glimmer of understanding light up in his eyes.
"And you're still doing it." he said.
"The fever has not broken yet. He is slipping in and out of consciousness. -
Obi-Wan explained as neutrally as he could - If I leave him alone, he would
last about an hour tops before the nightmares kick in. So when I'm awake, I
anchor him to reality, and when we are both sleeping, I cover him with my mind
shield." he explained.
"You share dreams?" Qui-Gon asked, eyes going wide in wonder or worry. Hard to
tell.
"Eh... We do actually." Obi-Wan replied, feeling slightly anxious. Was that a
no-no? Had they breached an unspoken taboo?
"How is it?" Qui-Gon asked instead with marked interest.
"It's fun. A bit weird sometimes." Obi-Wan explained, slightly surprised by his
Master's reaction.
"Weird how?" Qui-Gon asked again.
"Carnivorous tomatoes armed with blasters, and Grand Master Yoda in drag.
That's all I'm going to say..." Obi-Wan said, repressing a smirk.
Qui-Gon burst into laughter. "Oh, boy... Your secret is safe with me. - he
declared with a grin - Just tell me one more thing. Who came up with the Yoda
thing?"
Obi-Wan smiled. "It's hard to say. One of us comes up with an initial image,
but the final result... well, I suppose it was mainly my fault, but he helped a
lot with the details. He has a devious sense of humour." he confessed.
"And you don't?" Qui-Gon teased him.
Obi-Wan blushed again. "I suppose I do." he replied, thinking about the sharp,
sarcastic remarks that he and Maul had exchanged in the tunnels.
"You know, when I was a Padawan, I and Master Dooku were sent to a planet
called Kalee to train the local warriors against the Bitthaevrians." Qui-Gon
started, his narrative seemingly disconnected from the rest of their
conversation.
Obi-Wan frowned. Maybe it was an effect of the painkillers, he though, casting
a quick glance to the treatment schedule to check how much stuff they had given
him, but apparently he was on a very low dose. He repressed a sigh and returned
his attention to his Master, nodding in acknowledgement.
"Isn't Kalee that place where Master T'chooka Doon was sent a couple years ago?
Wasn't his mission about stopping the Kaleesh from going into a killing spree
against their neighbours? - Obi-Wan asked, more to show that he was listening
than out of genuine interest - They had to withdraw and do an orbital, didn't
they?"
"Yes, they did. - Qui-Gon confirmed sadly - I doubt the truth about the
conflict was as clear-cut as they reported, though." he added grimly
"So what happened to you in Kalee, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, steering the
conversation back on track.
"Well, young one, there was a girl..." Qui-Gon said with a hint of a smile.
"A girl?" Obi-Wan repeated.
"A woman, really. - Qui-Gon clarified - Sereq was her name. She was older than
me and had been widowed in a raid. She even had a child. She was the finest
sharpshooter I have ever met." he added with a faraway expression.
"Ah, that's a nice euphemism..." Obi-Wan teased.
Qui-Gon blushed hard under the beard. "It's not an euphemism. She was an
amazing fighter." he explained with obvious fondness.
"Was she beautiful?" Obi-Wan asked.
"She was beautiful to me. - Qui-Gon replied - The Kaleesh bear very superficial
resemblance to humans."
"They are lizardfolk, right?" Obi-Wan guessed, drawing on snatches of half-
remembered conversations.
"Yes, young one." Qui-Gon confirmed.
"I bet Master Dooku had a fit about it." Obi-Wan commented, shaking his head.
"He never knew. We were discreet. - Qui-Gon retorted with a smile - Anyway,
what I meant to say was that once she convinced me to try some strange weed
they used to communicate with their gods."
"And you went with the plan?" Obi-Wan asked, incredulous.
"I was seventeen and completely besotted." the older Jedi justified himself,
blushing a bit more.
"And what happened?" Obi-Wan insisted.
"Several things..." Qui-Gon replied with a smirk.
Obi-Wan's jaw nearly dropped at the implication. He knew that his Master had
had a significant other for quite a while, but not that he had had others
before.
"... among which, we shared a dream, or a vision. - Qui-Gon continued - It was
weird and puzzling and then it veered towards scary as hell for a while, but it
was also the most exhilarating and intimate thing I've ever felt." he
confessed.
"I know what you mean." Obi-Wan admitted, concentrating for a moment on the
link. Maul's presence reverberated through him, rippling with emotions. He was
getting upset about something, so Obi-Wan sent a pulse of reassurance down the
link, letting him know that he was still there and everything was alright. Maul
concentrated harder on his side, probably as he briefly surfaced to full
consciousness, and the link tightened, and for a moment he could almost see the
infirmary room in the other wing of the hospital, the trees waving in the wind
out of the window and Doc sitting nearby with the book he had been reading.
"Hospital to Obi-Wan! Do you copy?" Qui-Gon teased, shaking him out of his
concentration.
"Eh! - Obi-Wan exclaimed, blinking like an oaf - Sorry, Master. Was I gone for
long?"
"Only a few seconds. Is everything alright?" Qui-Gon asked with solicitude.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I think we just figured out something new about the link." he
said.
"New how?" Qui-Gon inquired, frowning.
"It appears that if we both concentrate hard enough on the link, it strengthens
significantly. - Obi-Wan replied tentatively - I think I saw the room where he
is staying." he added, shaking his head in disbelief. Did Maul see the room
where he was now as well, he wondered.
"You appear to be very attuned to one another." Qui-Gon commented, sounding
none too enthusiastic about it.
"We've been like this for more than a week. We're getting used to each other."
Obi-Wan minimised.
"You care for him." Qui-Gon asserted.
"I do. - Obi-Wan admitted without the least remorse - No one else has ever
before."
"Yoda said he was trained in the Dark Side from infancy." Qui-Gon commented.
"Trained is a big word. - Obi-Wan replied with a grimace of disgust - More like
abused and tortured in any imaginable way. It's no wonder he has nightmares. It
is actually surprising he's not totally batshit insane and fully sociopathic."
he said, shaking his head.
"He didn't seem like the poster boy for mental sanity, from what I recall."
Qui-Gon objected.
"He's a bit of a fighting nut. - Obi-Wan admitted - I promised him we'll have a
rematch, when he's back on his feet." he added fondly, almost in spite of
himself.
"He is still very ill, isn't he?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.
"He... We still don't know if he'll make it. - Obi-Wan admitted, hanging his
head in defeat - Whatever infection he caught is resistant to the antibiotics
we are giving him, if it is even a bacterium and not a mold. And his shields
are still down and... I've never heard of an infection causing these symptoms
and neither has Doc." he confessed, dimming the link so that his anxiety and
confusion would not affect Maul.
"Don't lose hope, young one. - Qui-Gon encouraged him - Your prisoner seems
like a fighter, and you are helping him as much as you can. I'm sure the Force
will not take him away so soon after putting him on your path." he declared.
"Our path." Obi-Wan corrected him.
"I am afraid I am accessory to your crossed destinies, young one. - Qui-Gon
objected with a weak smile - My role is now to get out of this bed as soon as
possible and train Anakin."
"I am sure that he will become a great Jedi under your guidance." Obi-Wan said
politely.
"And yours. - Qui-Gon added - Anakin is not coming back to the Temple with me,
Obi-Wan. He is staying here until you stay." he announced.
Obi-Wan looked at his Master in confusion. "But Grand Master Yoda..." he
started to object.
Qui-Gon didn't let him finish. "I know what he said, but he barely remembers
how it was to be a child. Children can be cruel, even those grown up in the
Temple, as you know well. - he said - Anakin will be a late-comer, a privileged
intruder with a guaranteed place as a Padawan."
Obi-Wan sighed. "Some of the initiates will give him hell for that." Obi-Wan
agreed.
"Yes. And Anakin doesn't know how to cope with that. - Qui-Gon continued - Back
home, he had his mother to support him and give him strength, but at the Temple
he will be alone and isolated. He will be frustrated and possibly afraid and I
won't be able to give him my undivided attention for months to come. Here he
will have you."
"Me?!" Obi-Wan repeated.
"Yes, you. - Qui-Gon confirmed - I know you have a lot on your plate already,
and I wouldn't ask you more, if I had an alternative, but you could prepare him
for his new life at the Temple, bring him up to speed on the training he has
missed in these years."
Obi-Wan felt a wave of panic and disorientation roll him under. He barely knew
what he was doing, now that he was only responsible for Maul's welfare. He was
playing it by ear, relying on luck and instinct as much as on reason to make
his choices, and now he would have to take responsibility for another person.
He wasn't even a knight yet, and he was definitely not ready or qualified to
train a child!
And yet, even as he thought about all the reasons why it was totally a bad
idea, he recognised the wisdom of Qui-Gon's insight.
He knew how it felt to be the odd one out in a group of children, to be made
into the butt of all jokes and to be bullied. He didn't wish Anakin to
experience it for himself, if he could help.
"I can try, Master. - Obi-Wan replied, taking a deep breath - I suppose I can
only do my best and hope it is enough." he added, straightening and trying to
stem the panic.
"You are having a hard time now, I know, but you'll see it will be worth it in
the end." Qui-Gon reassured him.
"If I even survive the stress..." Obi-Wan half-joked.
"You are stronger and wiser than you believe, young one. - Qui-Gon said with
evident affection - I think this adventure has clearly demonstrated it, if
indeed there was any need."
Obi-Wan was overcome for a moment by the impulse to hug his Master and
controlled himself only with great difficulty, and only because of medical
reasons. He didn't usually need such validations, but he couldn't deny the
pride and the satisfaction blossoming in his heart.
"Master, I..." he started to say, intending to limit himself to a formal thank
you, but the flow of feelings he had kept bottled up since the day of the fight
suddenly found its way out, spilling from his lips in a torrent of words.
"I don't know how to say this, I'm not even sure I am supposed to feel this...
but I love you as if you were my father. - Obi-Wan confessed, feeling close to
tears - I know we haven't always agreed on everything and that we have
exasperated each other a lot, but... Now I realise how lucky and privileged I
am to have your guidance and affection. When I thought you dead... I felt empty
inside. I missed you so much..." he added. His voice broke and a tear or two
stained his face. He must have looked and sounded like a fool, but he felt a
lot better now that he had said what he had always meant to say, and had nearly
been forever prevented to tell him. His Master had to know, whatever he might
think of it.
"Obi-Wan... Come here, child..." Qui-Gon entreated softly, making a small
beckoning gesture with one hand.
Obi-Wan sank to his knees at the side of the bed and held his Master's hand
gently, afraid to hurt him somehow.
"I saw you fall... and then they told me that they had not found you... - Qui-
Gon said softly - I thought you had died... and though I know that we will all
be one in the Force, one day, I wept. You are like a son to me, young one.
Never forget this." he declared, sounding close to tears himself.
Obi-Wan burst into a sob and leaned his forehead onto his Master's hand. Qui-
Gon curled his fingers and they grazed Obi-Wan's cheek in a caress. For some
reason, that made him cry all the harder.
"I love you, Master. I love you so much..." he sobbed.
It took him some minutes to calm down, but when it finally happened and he rose
to his feet he felt a lot more calm and balanced, as if he had managed to
recenter himself.
"Sorry about this..." he whispered, not feeling very sorry at all.
"I think we both needed it." Qui-Gon said. His face was also stained by tears,
but he looked serene now, still tired, but inexplicably better than when Obi-
Wan had come into the room. Maybe it was because there were no more things left
unsaid between them, and they had both made peace with their feelings,
accepting them.
"I will come back to the Temple as soon as I can, Master." Obi-Wan promised.
Qui-Gon smiled. "I am sure you will come when the time is right, not sooner,
nor later - he said - I look forward to meeting young Maul in peace instead of
in battle. He must be a remarkable person..."
"As weird as it might sound, he admires you, Master." Obi-Wan chuckled.
"He was a honourable opponent. I confess I was surprised. I didn't expect that
from a Sith." Qui-Gon commented with a sigh.
"He is odd. - Obi-Wan admitted - But I'll rather have an odd guy, who is still
capable of feeling, than a perfectly ordinary, but heartless sociopath like his
Master." he added, grimacing at the thought.
"You saw him?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I did, but only in Maul's memories. - Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head in
disappointment - Not clearly enough to identify the bastard, though." he added,
clenching his fists in anger. Every time he even just thought about that
individual, he couldn't help but feel his hackles rise. He had crossed paths
with quite a few loathsome beings, but the old Sith took the poison-laced
shitcake.
He had never felt something so strongly before, and that made him wonder
whether he might not be borrowing some subconscious resentment from Maul.
"Calm down, young one! - Qui-Gon instructed with alarm - Don't let yourself be
unbalanced by your anger!"
"Oh, no, I don't want to fall to the Dark Side if there is a bastard like him
there. - Obi-Wan retorted heatedly - But I cannot pretend I don't loathe him.
You haven't seen what he has done, Master. I have. I was there, in a way. I was
beside Maul as it happened. No child should go through that."
"Oh, my dear boy..." Qui-Gon whispered.
"And you know what's worse? - Obi-Wan continued - Part of him thought and
probably still thinks that it is perfectly normal, that he deserved to be
beaten and tortured and abused... That it was his fault for not being good
enough..."
"Part of him must have realised that it wasn't right or normal, otherwise he
wouldn't have accepted your help, don't you think? - Qui-Gon tried to reassure
him - You have to believe in him. You have to believe that he will find a way
of breaking the cycle of oppression." he said.
"I do, Master. - Obi-Wan replied - I am sorry I offloaded this on you. I guess
I needed some sort of sanity check. I mean, Doc said more or less the same to
me, but sometimes it seems such a huge endeavor..." he trailed off wearily.
"If he trusts you enough to let you in his mind, you have good reason to hope,
young one." Qui-Gon remarked.
Obi-Wan nodded, breathing more easily. He was a bit tired about this emotional
rollercoaster, but he had the feeling that if he kept his feelings bottled up,
it would be even worse.
"Thank you for your advice, Master. Your support means everything to me." Obi-
Wan said, holding his Master's hand again.
Qui-Gon smiled and weakly squeezed his hand. "I will always be here for you,
young one. I might not be able to give you any practical help for a while, but
I will always be happy to advise you." he declared.
"And I will always be ready to listen to you." Obi-Wan replied, squeezing back
just enough that his Master could feel it.
"Then listen to one more piece of advice now. - Qui-Gon instructed - Don't
worry too much about me, alright? I'll be fine at the Temple. Concentrate on
your charge. Go back to him and stay at his side. He needs your support more
than anyone else does at the moment. Just give some advice to Anakin when you
can, will you?" he asked.
"Of course, Master!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, nodding vigorously.
"He is outside the door, isn't he? I can feel his presence in the Force. - Qui-
Gon commented - Would you mind sending him in, so I can explain him why I want
him to stay behind?" he added.
"Not at all Master. - Obi-Wan replied - I'll be on my way. Have a nice trip
back to Coruscant."
"I'll try." Qui-Gon laughed, then became serious again.
"Obi-Wan! - he called out when the Padawan was already on the threshold - Be
careful, alright? I don't know if there are really more agents of the Sith
Master here on Naboo, but... just stay alert. He might want to get rid of loose
ends, if you catch my drift."
Obi-Wan stilled with the hand on the doorknob and turned back.
"I won't let him. I swear it on the Code." he declared, feeling that
inassailable determination to fight to the end fill his soul again, like it had
in the tunnels when he had taken the decision to save Maul, no matter what.
"Good luck, my son." Qui-Gon said.
"Goodbye, Master." Obi-Wan replied, then turned back to the door and stepped
out.
When Obi-Wan stepped into the waiting area, Anakin was still sitting on the
bench where he had left him, swinging his legs back and forth as he read a
Royal Naboo Fleet tactical manual some pilot had lent him, but he wasn't so
engrossed in his reading as not to notice his arrival.
"Is he alright?" the boy asked, switching off the datapad and jumping to his
feet.
"He is as well as it can be expected, given the circumstances. - Obi-Wan
replied, ruffling the boy's sandy hair in a brotherly caress - He wants to see
you." he added.
"Oh, really?!" Anakin exclaimed, quite excited.
"Yes, really. - Obi-Wan confirmed - But try not to tire him too much, alright?"
Anakin nodded solemnly. " I'll be very, very quiet. - he promised - I'm so glad
that he is going to be well, eventually..."
"Me too, kiddo. Me too. - Obi-Wan agreed - I have to go now, my shift restarts
in half an hour. Are you free after dinner tonight?" he asked.
Anakin thought about it for a moment then shook his head. "Sorry, Obi-Wan. The
fast deployment drill is tonight. - he replied - Can you imagine how cool it
will be?" he added, nearly bouncing on his feet for the excitation.
Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile. "You're taking this work placement very
seriously." he commented.
Anakin nodded. "I like flying. It's a pity I'll have to leave tomorrow for the
Temple. - he said wistfully - But I suppose that training for Jedi will be even
cooler, won't it?" he asked with a broad smile, switching back to excitement.
"It's the coolest thing ever. - Obi-Wan confirmed, returning the smile - I
think Master Qui-Gon has a new plan to help you make the most of your training
opportunities. Why don't you go to him and see if you like it?" he proposed,
finding a way to give a positive spin to the change of plans.
"A plan?" Anakin asked.
Obi-Wan nodded. "We care about your future, kiddo." he declared.
Anakin burst into motion and hugged him tightly around the middle, nearly
cutting his breath. "Thank you so much Obi-Wan! - he exclaimed - Watto never
gave a... uh... he didn't care about my education." he said, hastily correcting
himself on the verge of swearing.
"If it wasn't for my mum, I wouldn't even know how to read or write." he added,
shaking his shaggy head.
"Shall I be offended that you compared me to that greedy sleemo?" Obi-Wan
teased him, crossing his arms over his chest.
Anakin laughed. "Where did you learn that? It's a Huttese swearword!"
"When you are a Jedi, you often get sworn at in several languages. - Obi-Wan
explained with a shrug - You end up learning a lot of curses."
Anakin's eyes widened in interest. He took a breath to speak, but Obi-Wan
didn't even let him utter a sound.
"No, I'm not teaching them to you. - he cut in sternly - You should go to
Master Qui-Gon now. It's rude to let people wait." he added.
Anakin sighed in disappointment. "It was worth a try. - he commented - I'm
going, now. Will I see you tomorrow at breakfast?" he asked, placing the
reading pad in the pouch at his belt and approaching the door.
"Sure thing, kiddo. - Obi-Wan replied - May the Force be with you in your
drill." he added.
"And with you in your shift!" Anakin replied without missing a beat, then
slipped into Master Qui-Gon's room.
I'll probably need it... Obi-Wan thought, walking down the corridor towards the
isolation ward.
When he returned to Maul's room, Doc was nowhere to be seen. She must have
already gone to the meeting the head surgeons held at the beginning of every
shift, Obi-Wan mused. The book she had pinched from him was still on the chair
at Maul's bedside, open down the middle. She had left his bookmark in place, at
least, Obi-Wan noticed with relief. It felt strange to handle a hard copy of a
book, instead of reading on a pad, but some of the hospital's most advanced
equipment was very sensitive to electronic interferences, so the hospital held
hard copies of reference books for personnel to peruse between shifts and even
some narrative for patients stuck with waiting for exams.
Obi-Wan quickly checked the readings on the various monitors, finding that they
were not more alarming than when he had last checked them about an hour before.
Maul's temperature was still too high, the inflammation markers were still too
high as well, and his shields were still defective.
Obi-Wan sighed and gently brushed Maul's hand with his own. Sometimes abuse
survivors were unable to tolerate someone else's touch, but he seemed to enjoy
it, and often initiated it when he was conscious enough. Obi-Wan had chosen to
take it as a good sign, and always made sure not to make the least gesture that
could be interpreted as rejection. Maul needed to know that he could always
trust him and count on his support.
As usual, Maul stirred at the contact, trying to propel himself out of the
quagmire of semi-consciousness. His eyelids trembled for a moment before his
eyes opened and his rather unfocused gaze locked on him.
"Little Padawan..." he managed to whisper, slurring slightly because of the
drugs. His hand grabbed Obi-Wan's almost instinctively.
"Hey! Good morning, my nemesis... - the Padawan greeted affectionately - How
are you feeling?"
Maul closed his eyes again without replying. Obi-Wan thought that he had lost
consciousness again, so he was very surprised when the link suddenly
strengthened and a thin tendril of Force flicked through his thoughts, probing
them like the tongue of a snake, only to suddenly retreat.
"How can you not hate me, Obi-Wan?" Maul asked, grabbing the Jedi by the front
of his robes and pulling him closer.
"Why should I hate you?" Obi-Wan replied, holding his soul-searching gaze with
his own.
Maul closed his eyes again and took a deep breath before answering.
"I dreamed about your Master... He was alive and he said that he loved you... -
he revealed and his voice broke as he spoke - He said you were the son he never
had... and you were so happy... and I took all of this from you..." he
continued, nearly shaking with emotion.
"You didn't. - Obi-Wan retorted - Master Qui-Gon is not dead. He is alive and
he is here in Theed. It was not a dream. You saw him through me." he revealed,
mentally berating himself. He should have told him earlier, but there had never
seemed to be a good moment to do so.
Maul looked at him in confusion, but his death grip on the Jedi's clothes
relaxed a fraction.
"Is this a dream then? One where things fix themselves? - he asked desperately
- I... I wish it was true. I wish..." he trailed off, shaking his head.
"This is not a dream either. - Obi-Wan replied softly - I am here, and it is
the truth. Here, see it for yourself... Let me show you." he entreated.
Leveraging himself on the link between them, he gently drew Maul's Force into
his own, guiding him to memories of his meeting with Qui-Gon as if he was
leading him by hand.
"It is true then... Thank the Force..." Maul exhaled, slowly and almost wearily
retreating from Obi-Wan's mind, and letting go of his clothes. Instead of
straightening and increasing the distance between them, the Padawan knelt next
to the bed, so that he was still as close to his charge as before.
"It's alright. You are both going to be fine." he reassured, brushing his
fingers against Maul's cheek.
"He is not coming for me..." Maul whispered after a moment of silence, sleepily
but still wistfully. There was no need to specify who he was. For a moment, the
memory of the Sith Master hung in the air between them, making it feel colder
and darker.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were the faint beeps of the
monitors and the rustling of the trees in the wind, outside the window.
"No, I am afraid he is not..." Obi-Wan said softly.
"I should have known... - Maul admitted, nodding minutely - But it was so
tempting to hope..." he added, turning his face away from Obi-Wan.
"I am nothing... - he rasped - I never mattered to him."
He sounded broken and defeated and Obi-Wan could not stand to see him like
that. It was wrong on a fundamental level in a way that he couldn't really
describe.
"You are not nothing. You are my nemesis. You matter to me." the Padawan said,
gently but with certainty.
"You... - Maul whispered, turning back towards him - Only a week, and you care
about me more than my Master has done in nearly twenty years..." he commented
raising his hand to Obi-Wan's face and reciprocating his tentative caress.
Obi-Wan smiled even as he felt his heart twinge with pity.
Maul managed to smile back, then his hand dropped to the bed and he fell silent
again, slipping back into unconsciousness almost immediately. Obi-Wan remained
at his side, waiting patiently, and eventually Maul resurfaced once more.
"It is too good... It does not make sense..." he said, looking at Obi-Wan with
desperation.
The Padawan didn't really know how to reply to that.
"Why does it have to make sense? Sometimes things just are." he said with what
he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Maul shook his head wearily. "At times I fear that none of this is real... - he
confessed - That I am still down there in the dark... alone... That you...
this... all of this... its is nothing but a dream I am dreaming to stay sane."
he added, raising his hand towards Obi-Wan once more.
"This is real. - Obi-Wan retorted, taking Maul's hand in his - I swear to you."
Maul shook his head again. "It can't be. Real life is not like this. It never
was." he retorted, sounding heartbroken but resigned to the harsh reality of
life as he knew it.
"But it can be. You know it can. - Obi-Wan said, forcing himself not to cry -
And I know you want it to be." he added, hopeful.
Maul nodded. "More than anything else I've ever wanted." he admitted, gripping
Obi-Wan's hand tighter.
"Then let it be true. Fight for it. - Obi-Wan encouraged him - There are so
many good things in life... When you see them, you'll realise that this is
nothing compared to what real life should be." he promised.
"This is not nothing. You are not nothing. - Maul objected, frowning - You are
real... You are important." he added, and a trickle of panic started to filter
through the link. Maul held to Obi-Wan's hand so hard that the Padawan started
to think it would bruise. He could imagine why his charge had suddenly started
to panic.
"I am going to stay with you for as long as you need. - he reassured - Even
when you are back on your feet, if so you should wish. I won't abandon you, and
this is a promise." he added solemnly, looking into Maul's unfocused red-gold
eyes.
Maul sighed and relaxed visibly, releasing his death-grip on the Jedi's hand.
"Even though I think that at that point you'll have found much more interesting
people to hang out with..." Obi-Wan added, trying to lighten up the mood.
"No. - Maul said with certainty - You will still be important... Always." he
added softly as he slipped back into a sort of light, troubled sleep.
Even if he knew he shouldn't put too much stock in what people said during a
fever-and-drug-induced delirium, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel his heart warm
at those words. They sounded sincere, and they felt sincere. In spite of what
Master Windu said, Obi-Wan had always been sure that Maul wasn't using him, and
every time he received new proof of it. The remorse, the need for reassurance,
the affection that the Jedi felt coming from his charge were real, and were
something a Darksider was not supposed to be able to feel.
"Same here. - Obi-Wan confirmed quietly, though Maul couldn't hear him - Same
here, my nemesis..." he whispered, brushing his free hand against his face.
Maul relaxed further and Obi-Wan could feel him shift towards a deeper sort of
sleep. He knew that true, dreamless sleep would elude him until Obi-Wan went to
sleep as well, but the more he managed to rest, whatever the way, the better,
so he repeated the caress, over and over, interrupting himself only to shift
the chair closer with the Force and sit down to spare his knees. The position
was still quite uncomfortable, but he didn't really care at the moment. Soon a
small smile appeared on the Zabrak's patterned visage and Obi-Wan knew that it
was worth all the back-ache in the world.
When Doc arrived from the surgeons' meeting, Obi-Wan's back had won the fight
with his best intentions, and he had fallen back to reading his book while
running his fingers up and down Maul's hand and forearm. He appeared to like
the new arrangement well enough and was relatively calm. Every now and then,
Obi-Wan caught glimpses of whatever he was dreaming, which for the moment
consisted of a mix of geometric shapes interspersed with weird mathematical
formulas that made no sense at all. It was odd and not very relaxing, but it
was better than more torture.
Doc approached the bed padding silently as only a Temple-trained person could
manage, and smiled at Obi-Wan.
"How is he doing?" she whispered.
"Reasonably well. No more crises so far." the Padawan replied cheerfully.
Doc nodded. "But his shields are still down." she added.
Obi-Wan nodded. "He is trying to get them back under control, but they are too
fragile." he explained.
"The results from the microbiology lab have arrived. - Doc announced - We might
have an explanation."
Obi-Wan's interest was immediately piqued. "Did they identify the pathogen?" he
asked immediately.
Doc nodded and loaded up a file on the bedside terminal. A micrograph appeared,
showing a strange, bulbous and hairy micro-organism, then Doc activated a
control and a series of data were superimposed on it. Obi-Wan scanned it
eagerly, but even after he had finished he was still none the wiser.
"It's a quite rare and nasty bugger. - Doc explained - It does not come up in
the usual genetic screens. The people in the lab identified it from a culture
and I can tell you that they were none too happy about it." she commented.
"That bad?" Obi-Wan asked, very alarmed.
"It would have required a higher containment level than what they used, so they
are understandably worried, but it shouldn't be too dangerous to healthy
people. - Doc replied - It's a serious threat to weakened or wounded people,
though, and it's not very well studied." she added, shaking her head.
This did nothing to allay Obi-Wan's fears.
"Is there something we can do? A treatment? Anything?" he asked, trying to keep
calm for Maul's sake even if he felt like he should start shaking out of sheer
worry.
"There is, my lad, don't you fret. - she replied - I'm friends with the
researcher who has synthesized a specific drug for our little bugger, and she
has agreed to send us enough material for a full cycle of treatment. That stuff
is so new that it is not available on the market yet." she revealed.
"Does it work?" Obi-Wan inquired, feeling hopeful but still doubtful.
"It does on mice and rabbits. - Doc said, shrugging - The bugger is rare enough
that they don't have enough sentient patients to present a full case to the
Galactic Drug Agency. And I suppose they don't really care about this drug at
the GDA, anyway." she lamented.
"And why?" Obi-Wan asked, thinking that it didn't make much sense.
Doc shrugged. "This pathogen is unknown on the rich Core Worlds. It's a problem
only in the Rim, and they can't care less because there is hardly any money in
it." she replied.
Obi-Wan stared at her with disbelief, hoping that by doing so he could somehow
force her to say that it was just a joke, but he had dealt with central
Galactic Government bodies enough in the last few years to recognise the truth
in her words.
"This is the most short-sighted and egotistic policy I have ever heard of!" he
protested, indignant.
Doc nodded. "I know. But let's thank the Force for our good fortune, my lad.
Without my friend's drug, your buddy would be in a very tight spot. - she said
- It is going to arrive tomorrow at the latest and you'll see that he will be
fine quite soon." she added almost immediately, recognising Obi-Wan's alarm.
"Thank the Force, indeed. - Obi-Wan agreed with palpable relief - It was very
generous of your friend to give us the treatment for free."
Dic waved a hand in the air. "She is not in it for money, like most of the
people in experimental medicine. - she minimised - She only asked to be able to
use the data from this case. It will be anonimised, anyway."
Obi-Wan acquiesced. "I'll ask Maul if he consents next time he is awake, but I
doubt he will object. - he said - Is this pathogen what is causing his shields
to collapse?" he asked with a hint of skepticism. He was not an expert healer
but it sounded slightly preposterous.
"Could be. This thing produces a toxin which causes delirium and hallucinations
in non-Forceful people. - she explained - No one really knows what the effects
would be on a Forceful. I think your buddy is the first confirmed case."
"Lucky him, eh? Obi-Wan commented.
"Oh, don't be so glum, my lad! - Doc chided - There are worse things that could
have happened to him. Ten days of treatment, two weeks at the worst, and the
bugger should be gone. Then it should be only a matter of waiting for the
effects of the toxin to wear off." she illustrated.
"So he is safe now." Obi-Wan said, casting a quick glance at Maul.
Doc hesitated a moment. "Eh, I would wait to declare the crisis solved until we
see how well he responds to the new treatment, - she cautioned - but if he had
50% chances before, I'd say now he has at least 80% or even 90%." she added,
and, knowing how cautious and ready for the worst she was, Obi-Wan felt quite
hopeful and reassured.
"I don't know how to thank you, Doc. You have been amazing!" he exclaimed.
Doc smiled and blushed. "Just doing my job here. - she minimised with a shrug -
If you really want to thank you, make sure that this poor lad is safe from that
bastard, alright? I'm sure he deserves better." she declared, laying her hand
on Maul's brow with a gentle, sad expression.
"I will, Doc. You have my word." Obi-Wan promised.
"Good. - Doc approved, withdrawing her hand and turning towards the Padawan
with a determined expression - And now, to work, my lad. The A&E is chock-full
of multiple trauma patients, and we have also a few other sundries to deal with
this shift."
"Let me guess, speeder race accident?" Obi-Wan hypothesised with a grimace.
"The Theed Tourist Classic. - she confirmed - Someone lost control of his
speeder in the middle of the followers group. It was a bloody mess." she
explained.
"Oh joy! - Obi-Wan exclaimed, reluctantly breaking physical comtact with Maul
and getting to his feet - A bunch of crumpled adrenalin-junkies... Just what we
needed for a relaxing shift." he added, stretching and yawning.
Doc laughed. "Every day in the ward is a day less in Hell, my lad, that's the
motto." she commented.
Obi-Wan laughed as well. "We wouldn't have it any other way." he said and with
a last glance at his charge, went to his duty.
***** Out of the Woods *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     Warning: a bit of bad language, involuntary innuendo, some
     intolerance... and Maul is totally stoned.
Obi-Wan was dreaming of red skies bathed in perpetual twilight, of tall red
grass and children laughing.
His brother Owen had turned five and had received a shiny new Mandalorean bolo
ball for his life-day. All the boys from the neighbourhood had come out to
play.
He was the youngest and the older boys could run circles around him, except
that he knew where the ball would go, he knew it before it did, and when his
taller and stronger brother kicked it towards the improvised goal, he was there
to intercept it and kick it in the back of the pretend-net. His team cheered,
and Owen hugged him and lifted him up, and when he turned his head he glimpsed
a smile on their mother's face. Even if she pretended she was working and not
paying attention, she had seen him score and she was proud of him. In that
moment, he was perfectly happy and peaceful, and as the dream faded, it left a
bittersweet taste in his mouth.
"Wake up, my lad! - someone female exclaimed, shaking him gently by a shoulder
- I think that this time he is waking up for real!" she added with excitement.
Obi-Wan tried to open his bleary eyes and his shields snapped back in place by
reflex as the last remnants of the shared dream faded away. Ever since he had
tried sleeping with his shields down to keep the link between him and Maul open
at all times, his dreams had become incredibly complicated and vivid
constructions that came from the meeting of both their imaginations and yet
made a strange sort of sense. It was absolutely weird, but also incredibly
exhilarating to be so deeply in syntony with someone as to nearly forget where
the boundaries between them were.
It was also quite weird that the only person he had truly managed to meet in
the middle with was a semi-conscious Darksider who might decide to be totally
furious with him as soon as he realised what had been going on. Up until now
Maul had been fine with mind-linking with him and receiving support, but he
might get angry anyway for what he might see as a weakness, now that he was
better.
Since the intruder didn't sound like she was stopping anytime soon, Obi-Wan put
his musings aside and tried to focus his gaze.
It was Doc, and she looked quite aflutter.
"What's up?" he slurred sleepily.
"It's Maul. The EEG readings are back to normal. I think he's back to full
consciousness!" she replied with a certain urgency.
Her words snapped him out of his dazed state in an instant. Suddenly awake, he
hopped off the bed and slipped his boots and tunic on.
"Come on!" she urged.
Obi-Wan entered the main room of the ward and returned to his usual position
next to the bed. On his chair, the book on Mandalorean children-soldiers he had
been reading the day before was still open where he had left it.
Maul's lids were kind of twitching and he was moving with more purpose than
usual. Obi-Wan lowered his shields again and waited.
Red-ringed yellow eyes opened suddenly and a confused expression appeared on
the Zabrak's face. Eyes and Force both darted around, searching and homed in on
him. Maul's Force-presence briefly wrapped around his and then retreated,
remaining near but not quite touching.
"Little Padawan..." Maul rasped, smiling a little.
"My nemesis... Glad to see you back among the living..." Obi-Wan replied, with
a mock-bow and a warm smile.
"How long...? How long was I out of commission?" Maul asked.
"It is nearly three weeks since we got out of the tunnels. A few days since the
fever broke." Obi-Wan said.
Time enough for the Jedi Elders to start worrying and to send Kit Fisto to
watch over the two of them, even if his nominal role was to help train Qui-Gon
had contrived for the kid to remain on Naboo and under his tutelage thanks to
an agreement with the Royal Naboo Fleet Engineers. They had put together some
bogus spaceship engineering apprenticeship scheme to enrol the kid in, and Obi-
Wan had been training him in the Jedi arts in whatever little spare time he
had. He was coming along quite well, but so far Fisto had barely looked
Anakin's way twice, whereas he had spent a lot of time pretending to chat
casually with him.
Obi-Wan had a hunch that his real task was to check whether he was falling to
the Dark Side, and, in case to neutralise both him and Maul, but so far all his
attempts to catch him at doing something evil had been quite obviously
unfruitful.
"So long... It felt like yesterday, or a lifetime ago. Like a long, long
dream.- Maul said in a quiet faraway voice - And you are not a knight yet."
Obi-Wan shook his still-braided head. "There were some complications."
"You were here all the time." Maul said. Even if it was clearly not a question,
Obi-Wan acquiesced nonetheless.
"I remember talking to you... But most of all, I could always feel you here...
- the Sith declared, feebly raising a hand towards his brow - You felt like
sunshine and laughter." he added dreamily.
Obi-Wan did not know how to reply to that and limited himself to a smile.
"I'm still totally high, am I not? There's no rainbows when things move and
you're not talking in slow-motion, right?" Maul asked a moment later, slowly
waving his hand back and forth and staring at it in confusion.
"You are still being administered a high dose of painkillers." Doc chimed in.
Maul turned his head towards the new voice and cringed. "Shouldn't have done
that..." he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut. Obi-Wan had to stamp really hard
on his sudden impulse to help. He didn't want to be too intrusive and humiliate
him.
"It's OK, a bit of dizziness is an expected side-effect." Doc explained.
"Should have told me earlier. - he protested - I want them off." he declared,
belligerent
"And I want a million credits on my bank account. - Doc replied, undaunted - If
I take them off all at once, you'll be in quite a lot of pain. Because of the
infection, your wounds are not fully mended yet."
"Don't care. I can deal with it." Maul retorted stubbornly.
"You sound like a brat when you behave like this, you know?" Doc provoked,
trying to shame him into submission, but Obi-Wan had learned enough about
medical ethics to know that if he insisted, she would have no other option but
to comply. And insist Maul would, if only to prove that he was not weak and
helpless. He needed a measure of control upon his situation, even if he had to
be in pain for it.
"Maybe you could lower the dose enough to make the pain manageable but to get
rid of the worst of the side-effects? - he proposed soothingly - Would that be
alright for you?" he asked, turning towards his charge. Maul hesitated just a
moment, just to prove that he could, before nodding slowly. Obi-Wan knew that
even if he was used to endure pain and discomfort, he was nowhere near a
masochist.
"That would be acceptable. I can't even think now. I only feel like sleeping."
he declared finally.
Obi-Wan smiled at him. "You need to rest if you want to get back to full
health." he said.
Maul rolled his eyes. "Behold the ever-compassionate Jedi..." he lamented.
"Oh, no. My concern is entirely selfish, my dear nemesis. - he replied - If you
don't recover completely, our rematch won't be fair, and then how will I know
if I can defeat you without taking a dip?" he asked.
"You can't. Next time it will be you lying in a hospital bed with tubes you
don't want to know where." Maul retorted smugly.
"Too much information!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, cringing in sympathy.
"Oh, quit whinging! It's only temporary, you'll make a full recovery. - Doc
said sternly - I even made sure the tattoos matched on both sides when I
stitched you up." she added.
Maul blinked repeatedly, considering her with slight concern. "Thanks..." he
said, looking a bit cowed. "It's a bit creepy, but very thoughtful of you,
madam." he added.
Obi-Wan couldn't help but giggle a little at the absurdity of the situation.
"You are welcome. You are an educated villain, at least..." Doc commented.
At her words, Maul cracked up laughing.
"What's so funny?" Doc asked. That only made him laugh more.
"Sorry... - he panted, trying to regain his breath and control - It is all so
surreal... this conversation. I'm only imagining it because I'm off my rocker,
isn't it?" he asked, rather wistfully.
"I'm pretty sure I'm not a figment of your imagination, my lad." Doc declared
dryly.
"That would be exactly what you would say if you were." Maul retorted.
"Sorry, but I skipped philosophy classes when they explained ontology. - she
said - I can pinch you, if it helps."
"I'd hardly feel it, I'm sure. I'm so full of... whatever that might be... that
my body feels like jelly." he protested.
Obi-Wan just watched them interact with an odd fondness growing in his heart.
It was comforting to know that Maul could interact almost normally with people,
even if he was clearly disoriented and out of his depth. A tattooed hand slid
over the coverlet and gently brushed against his. The contact lasted barely a
moment, but Maul clearly needed it to reassure himself of the reality of what
was going on.
"Alright, I'll assume you are real. Even stoned, I would not spend so much time
being sarcastic to myself. - the Zabrak conceded - That would be weirder than
the floating pink banthas." he added with a small smile.
Doc looked at him in perplexity for what must have sounded like a complete non
sequitur, but Obi-Wan smiled back, recalling one of the dreams they had shared
in the last three weeks.
Did that mean that he was fine with what had happened between them while he was
semi-conscious? That sounded bad even in his own mind, he reflected, cringing
inwardly.
"That was really weird. - he commented, testing the boundaries - I should have
figured out it was you."
"You're a Jedi. Even your dreams are repressed and boring." Maul retorted,
smirking.
"I'd call them peaceful." Obi-Wan said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.
By the Force! He had already grown to like bantering with him more than should
be appropriate.
"Too much peace is overrated. You need passion to make life worth living." Maul
replied, quirking an eyebrow.
"Woah!" Obi-Wan thought, feeling a sudden heat rise up to his face. That
sounded awfully like a pick-up line even from his limited experience in the
field.
He exchanged a glance with his charge. Even he looked very embarassed, as if he
had realised only afterwards what he had said. Obi-Wan winked and extended a
tendril of Force to brush against Maul's shields, as if to pat him on the back
and tell him it was OK.
Doc coughed dryly a couple of times. "Sorry, it's the clima-conditioner. It
dries my throat up something awful." she aplogised unbidden.
"'S alright." Maul said starting to slur again and clearly struggling to keep
his eyes open. Evidently that irritated him quite profoundly. The Zabrak
pounded his fist weakly against the sheets, grimacing and shaking his head, as
if to clear it.
"Damned drugs!" he growled.
"You need to sleep to recover, my lad. Now be a dear and just do what your body
is asking. - Doc chided - There is not much point in fighting against it."
Doc had a point, but Obi-Wan could only begin to imagine how hard it would be
for Maul to just give in.
"I'm done with this. You'll lower the Force-damned dose of this thing, starting
from now." he ordered, giving the doctor his best baleful stare.
Doc did not seem impressed. She crossed her arms below her breasts and looked
at him expectantly, an eyebrow quirked over a neutral expression.
Obi-Wan hoped she was not going to wait for him to say please like she would do
with an unruly kid. He would see asking that as a favour as something very
close to begging, an ultimate weakness, and if she forced him to it, he would
resent her deeply.
"Of course she will, won't you, Doc? - he intervened - Pretty please with sugar
on top..." he added, giving her his best puppy eyes and winning smile.
Doc rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes, yes. I'm on it. - she conceded, tapping
quickly on a bedside touchscreen - Here you go, Mister Congeniality. I've
halved the dose. You'll start feeling different in a couple of hours. Happy
now?"
"Very. - Maul replied - You're clearly a highly commendable doctor." he added
as an awkward, offhand way of saying thank you.
Doc shook her head again, earrings twinkling and glimmering in the light that
came through the window. "You are impossible. Both of you." she declared, but
she was smiling as she said that.
"Only... highly improbable..." Maul replied sleepily, shooting a glance at Obi-
Wan. His hand brushed against the Jedi's once again, before he lost his fight
with sleep and went out like a light.
"He's a weird one." Doc commented as they headed towards the canteen, having
left Maul to his sleep.
Obi-Wan's control of the contact and range of action had both improved
significantly over the course of the previous three weeks, so that he had
deemed safe leaving the hospital level in the quest for some breakfast and
barely drinkable caf.
"Yes, he is." Obi-Wan replied, feeling that odd fondness filling him again.
"I think you're really cute together." she continued.
Obi-Wan was so shocked by her remark that he nearly tripped over his feet. "We
are not together in any sense of the way.- he protested, nearly trembling in
sheer anxiety - I'm just... I'm following the Council's orders." he added. He
had made sure that they hardly had any option but give him that particular
order, but this was something he didn't really want to advertise.
"Easy, my lad. I was just kidding. - Doc said, smiling wide - I know you're
just being professional and dutiful. - she added not quite sarcastically, but
almost - I was only saying that you'd be a cute couple. If both of you were gay
and didn't hate each other, that is... Ah, nevermind. I'm just a dirty old
lady." she concluded and they lapsed into silence for a while as they joined
the breakfast queue.
"I don't hate him, it is not the Jedi way. And I don't think he has hated me
for a while now." Obi-Wan said later, as they sat down at one of the big, white
tables with their cafs and food trays.
Doc did not say anything, but looked at him encouragingly, as if expecting him
to say more.
Obi-Wan sighed. "He wanted to kill me at the beginning, in the tunnels. Now he
just wants to send me to the hospital. " he clarified.
"Oh, that must amount nearly to a declaration of love, coming from him." Doc
commented lightly, as she sipped her caf.
Obi-Wan blushed, feeling enormously silly at having let the conversation veer
that way.
He should have kept his cool and let the topic drop, but Doc was alway a good
listener and talking to her was easy and comforting, as if she was a kind but
sarcstic aunt.
He was growing fond of her as much as she had grown fond of him over the course
of their partnership.
That was a mistake, part of him recognised it. The Jedi Code spelled that he
should not yearn for attachment. Ties were enemy to the inner peace a Jedi
sought, he told himself, but he could not explain why he felt more peaceful and
content now that he had Anakin, Maul and even Doc to care and worry about, than
he had ever felt before.
The Code was by definition right, wasn't it?
Obi-Wan decided not to think about it and concentrated on his food and on Doc's
rants about how the quality of the caf was decreasing daily.
Soon more doctors and nurses from their ward joined them at the table, and the
conversation bounced back and forth between topics, from the results of the
last bolo-ball match between Theed United and some Mandalorean team, to the
funeral of banking tycoon Hego Damask, who had died of a stroke a few weeks
prior.
"They took their time to bury the old bat!" one of the orthopedic surgeons
commented.
"They must have investigated first. Muun are notoriously suspicious." someone
else commented.
The conversation soon degenerated into a discussion of the future plans of the
IGBC, then of the character of their new head of security, who was a non-human
from some Wild Space frontier world and consequently was immediately deemed an
uncivilised, trigger-happy thug.
From there, the natural evolution of the conversation was a rant on how the
non-human populations of the Outer Rim, with their uncontrolled growth and
lower wage expectations, were threatening the welfare of the operous, human,
Mid and Inner Rim communities.
Obi-Wan switched off from the conversation. He didn't like speciesists, and the
guy who was talking at the moment wasn't new to spewing such bullshit. If he
kept on listening he would only get irritated and there was hardly any point in
having a row with him. It was not as if he could talk some sense in him, and
knocking him around as he was sometimes tempted to do would hardly solve the
problem either. The best policy would be to ignore him altogether. Sighing, he
concentrated on his food and on the warm, peaceful feeling he felt through the
mind-link. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
"We have company..." Doc whispered moments later, elbowing him discreetly. Obi-
Wan blinked and raised his head, scanning the canteen for familiar faces.
The tall, broad-shouldered figure of Master Kit Fisto towered on the rest of
the people in the canteen. The Nautolan was approaching his table with a
relaxed gait and his trademark confident smile, and sat down in front of Doc
like he owned the place, effectively cutting them off the main conversation.
"Good morning, Padawan Kenobi, good morning, Sadé." he greeted, barely glancing
at him, but casting her a look that was quite heavy on subtext.
Overall, Doc was the only person who was genuinely happy about Master Fisto's
presence. The two of them had been at the Temple in the same years, and, while
Doc was older, their difference in age was not so pronounced. Judging from what
transpired from their interactions, they must have been close friends, if not
more.
"Morning, Kit. - Doc replied with a smile - You look far too awake for this
ungodly hour. Have you gone running in the park again?" she asked.
The Nautolan nodded, head-tentacles rustling gently. "You know there are no
parks on Coruscant, and the Temple lake is nice enough, but a natural one is
better." he replied.
"You've been swimming? - she asked, then laughed and shook her head - Oh, what
a silly question!"
Master Fisto smiled. "You can come with me one of these mornings, if you want.
- he offered - I remember you swam like a proper fish, back in the day." he
added.
"I had a good teacher. - she retorted - But it has been ages..." she added.
"It's not something you can really forget. - Master Fisto commented, then
turned towards Obi-Wan and suddenly changed topic - So, Padawan Kenobi... You
look over the moon this morning. What has happened? Has Sleeping Ugly finally
woken up?" he asked.
Obi-Wan immediately stiffened in outrage and was on the verge of delivering a
scathing reply to the older Jedi, but Doc intervened, trying to defuse the
situation.
"Come on, Kit! You're being ungenerous with the lad! - she chided - He is quite
an exotic-looking young man, but I think he is rather handsome." she declared.
Master Fisto chuckled and shook his head.
"Alright, I concede. - he said, lifting his hands in surrender - So, returning
to my question, has the Sithling finally woken up?" he reformulated, but his
tone was still unsympathetic and condescendent.
"He has a name, Master." Obi-Wan objected, trying to be firm but calm.
"Ah, right. Darth Smash or something like that..." the Nautolan commented.
"It is Maul." Obi-Wan said, growing irritated by the minute. Depersonalising a
perceived enemy was easy, but he wasn't going to let Master Fisto get away with
that. He needed the other Jedi to see Maul as a person and not a generic Sith
if he wanted to give his charge any chances of being accepted.
"Heh! What did I say? Is that even his real name?" the Nautolan teased.
"Says the man whose surname is Fisto..." Obi-Wan commented dryly.
"So what?" the older Jedi retorted, now frowning.
"So it sounds like the assumed name of a porn actor." the Padawan said bluntly,
locking stares with him. Doc snorted and giggled in spite of herself.
Master Fisto coloured a darker green and his head-tentacles wriggled ominously.
"What sort of point are you trying to prove, Padawan Kenobi?" he asked,
suddenly serious and unsmiling.
"That those sort of jokes are fun only as long as you are not on the receiving
end of them." Obi-Wan replied without missing a beat.
"Oh yes, and we shouldn't hurt the poor Sithling's feelings, right?" Master
Fisto provoked.
"We shouldn't hurt anyone's feelings, if we can help. It's called empathy, and
the Jedi teachings say it's a good thing, don't they?" Obi-Wan responded,
feeling his hackles rise. He knew he shouldn't talk back like that to a Master.
He had never even considered doing something like that before, and if Fisto was
looking for reasons to think that there was something wrong with him, he didn't
need to look any further.
"Do you know what, Kenobi? I don't care what his name might be, and I care even
less about offending him. - Master Fisto declared - What I demand that you tell
me is whether the prisoner is now fully conscious and capable of posing a
threat." he added sternly.
"A threat?! - Doc intervened, shaking her head - The poor lad has been more
dead than alive for the last three weeks, and is confined to a bed! What sort
of threat can he possibly pose?" she asked.
"He is a Sith. They are a threat by definition." Master Fisto retorted.
"I understand where you are coming from, Kit, but let's be serious. - Doc
argued - It will be weeks before he can do anything more dangerous than saying
naughty words or trying to pat a nurse's backside while they change his drip."
"You don't understand, Sadé. - Master Fisto retorted - You have been away from
the Temple for too long to see how things are." he added wistfully.
"No, Kit. It is you who have been cooped up in there too long to realise that
real life and real people are not black or white. You were not always so
dogmatic." Doc retorted softly, shaking her head.
"We were young, Sadé. They were more innocent times. - Master Fisto said - This
is a war. I was sent here to keep you safe and I will do my duty, even though
you don't like it, and even if I myself might not like it." he declared
solemnly.
"Purpose before feelings." Doc commented wistfully, looking at her hands,
clenched on the tabletop.
"That's how it should be." Master Fisto acquiesced.
"That's precisely why I left, Kit." Doc whispered, giving him a long and
intense look.
"I wish you had not. I really do." the Nautolan lamented, leaving his seat and
shaking his head. He gave Doc a last, wistful look and walked away without a
word more.
Doc sighed and shook her head, still contemplating her hands, whispering
something to herself.
Obi-Wan laid a hand on her shoulder, signalling his willingness to comfort her,
but she shook her head again.
"I'm fine, my lad. Don't mind me. It's just... - she started, then paused to
shake her head - Sometimes it is so frustrating to deal with Jedi. I wasn't
expecting Kit to behave so... so narrow-mindedly."
"He is only trying to protect everyone." Obi-Wan justified him, surprising even
himself a bit.
He was still irritated with the older Jedi about his tactless remarks, but he
could see his point. Before getting to know Maul, he would also have assumed
that a Sith would be automatically trying to manipulate people, or seduce them
to the Dark Side, or stuff like that, and would have taken steps to ensure the
safety of bystanders.
"I know, but there is no need. - Doc retorted - I don't feel threatened by that
poor lad. For now he has given me no reason to."
"Yes, but Master Fisto does not know. He is reacting based on a Jedi's working
assumptions." Obi-Wan explained.
"You know that by assuming you make an ass of yourself, don't you? - Doc
commented, still upset - He could just trust us on this, since he does not have
the information, but no! He has to come and tell us how things are! The Galaxy
would fall into utter chaos if a Padawan and a squib were right and a Master
was wrong! It is always the same! I'll never graduate to a competent adult in
their eyes!" she ranted.
"I do trust your judgement, Doc. - Obi-Wan reassured her - Being strong in the
Force is not an automatic guarantee of wisdom. I know that you know what you
are doing." he added, squeezing her shoulder.
"Thank you, my lad. - she said, taking a deep breath to calm down - Now I want
you to go to Maul and stay with him. Take the whole day off and don't leave him
for any reason." she instructed.
"Alright Doc, but you really think it is necessary, I mean... he is fine-ish
now." Obi-Wan objected.
"It is, trust me. If Kit is convinced that Maul is a threat, and that he needs
to protect us, he will try his best to do his duty. He might decide to post
guards in Maul's room, or to put him in restraints, or to fit him with a Force-
inhibitor..." she retorted.
"Hell, no!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.
That would ruin all the progress that Maul had made since the beginning, and
push him back into hating and despising Jedi. He was in flux, cut off from the
certainties he had entertained about his Master and the Dark Side. He needed
the Force to guide him, and a safe, peaceful environment to let the Light in
him come to the surface unhampered, and show him that he could trust, care and
be free.
"Exactly... - Doc acquiesced gravely - I will go to my niece and try to bring
her on our side. You stay there and protect him. Don't let Kit harm him in any
way, even with the best intentions. Fight for him. Show him that you are on his
side and buy us time." Doc entreated him.
Obi-Wan nodded. "If you save even just one person, you will have saved the
whole Galaxy..." he said, quoting an ancient proverb.
"...Because you will have shown it that there is still hope." she completed.
"I'll do my best, Doc." Obi-Wan promised.
Doc smiled with that smile that made her look so like Amidala.
"Then there is nothing to worry about. - she said with sincerity - Now run, my
lad. Keep hope alive." she entreated.
With one last nod, Obi-Wan got to his feet and dashed out of the canteen,
careening through the corridors towards the isolation ward and scattering away
anyone on his path.
The coast was still clear when he got there. He shut the door to the ward
behind himself with relief and sat next to the bed again, trying to catch his
breath.
A red-gold eye opened a fraction then closed again.
"Your mind feels in turmoil." Maul whispered.
"Sorry about that. I didn't want to disturb you." Obi-Wan replied.
"You never do. - Maul replied, now reasonably awake - I am just concerned about
you. What has happened?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's Master Fisto." he started.
"The tall Nautolan?" Maul asked.
"Yes, him, but how do you know him?" Obi-Wan replied frowning.
"He's known for being a good duelist." Maul said, looking slightly embarrassed.
Obi-Wan shook his head, but found himself smiling nonetheless. "You are a tad
obsessed, aren't you?" he commented.
"Possibly. - Maul conceded - What did he do?"
"Just his job. - Obi-Wan minimised -He is here to make sure you don't turn me
Dark, but he is being a bit of a prick about it." he clarified then.
"I would never do that. - Maul declared, horrified - Your Light... It has kept
me alive and safe for so long... And it is so beautiful... There were never
many beautiful things in my life, I can't contemplate destroying it." he said
softly.
Obi-Wan found himself unable to speak out of the knot that had formed in his
throat. If he had had any doubts about the path he had chosen, this would have
been reassurance enough.
"And now I've said the wrong thing, because I am a selfish bastard, haven't I?"
Maul asked, pretending to joke, but unable to totally hide the worry
underneath.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. You have done nothing wrong. - he said soothingly
- I am just a bit all over the place now."
"You are tired. You have been looking after me for a long time and I don't
suppose it was easy. - Maul said gently but firmly - You need to rest."
Obi-Wan couldn't help but acquiesce. He had had a few hard weeks and had slept
barely enough the previous night because of an emergency surgery on a man who
had been ran over by a vehicle, and even though his dreams had been peaceful
and relaxing, he was feeling wrecked. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he
was so nervous and irritable.
"I am afraid you are right. - he conceded - Would it be alright with you if I
slept here on the chair, instead of in the other room?" he asked.
"Damn! That will foil my plans of watching pay-per view adults-only content on
the HoloNet!" Maul said, looking dead serious, but only for a moment, before a
wide boyish grin appeared on his face.
"You are evil!" Obi-Wan laughed.
"Comes with the job." Maul acquiesced, chuckling lightly.
"So, is it OK?" the Padawan asked again.
Maul nodded without hesitation. "I don't mind at all. I know you don't snore. -
he replied - I would even lend you one side of the bed, but I can't really move
enough to let you in. Too many cables." he added ruefully.
Obi-Wan was rendered speechless again by the proposition, and by the
nonchalance with which it had been made.
On one hand, he couldn't help but see such a display of trust as a progress,
but, on the other, he had learned that abuse survivors tended to repeat abusive
patterns. Maybe the Sith bastard had trained him to offer physical contact in
exchange of protection or benevolence, and now Maul was proposing the same to
him because he was afraid that he could turn on him, or abandon him, and if he
accepted it, instead of sharing comfort and trust he would just be dishing more
abuse.
Maul didn't seem or feel disgusted or upset, or pressured by fear into making
the proposal, though. If anything he felt slightly disappointed that it
wouldn't really work.
Maybe he really meant that he did not mind. Maybe he just liked closeness.
It was complicated, and Obi-Wan was really glad that there was a practical
impediment in the way and that he wouldn't have to choose.
"Don't worry, the armchair will be fine." he said finally, smiling and bringing
his hand in close proximity of Maul's.
The Zabrak promptly squeezed it for a moment, then let it go. "Try not to dream
about Master Yoda in woman's clothes again, alright?" he warned.
"Oh, you remember that?" Obi-Wan asked, quite surprised and embarrassed.
"Yes, unfortunately. - Maul replied, grimacing in horror - I fear that if you
show that... thing... to me again, I will never be able to see him again
without laughing, or gagging, or possibly both. And I'm sure that would make
him like me a lot..." he added, partly joking, but partly worried.
The Sith Master had abandoned him, and he was likely turning away from the
Dark, but he had no real reason to like Jedi or to think that they would accept
him.
"Don't worry about that now. - Obi-Wan tried to reassure him - I'll try to
steer my thoughts as far away from Master Yoda as I can, is that OK?" he
proposed, sitting down and trying to make himself comfortable.
Maul acquiesced. "Do you want to try something?" he asked.
Obi-Wan nodded. "What do you have in mind?"
"I've heard that if you concentrate really hard on something before you sleep,
you'll dream of it. - Maul explained - Maybe we should choose one thing each
and try."
"Why one each and not both the same?" the Padawan objected.
Maul shrugged. "Because it would be fun to see how they combine."
"It will hardly make sense." Obi-Wan said.
"Good things do not always make sense, someone told me. - Maul retorted, giving
him a knowing look - I am still rather stoned, so it sounds like a good idea to
me, but I am open to alternatives." he conceded.
Obi-Wan hesitated a moment, then acquiesced. He liked the fact that he was
feeling confident enough to take the initiative and wanted to encourage him.
Plus, it sounded potentially hilarious.
"Let's give it a try. I'll think about fish." he proposed.
"Why fish?" Maul asked, rolling his eyes.
"And why not? It's not supposed to make sense anyway." Obi-Wan replied.
Maul chuckled and shook his head. "Fair enough. - he conceded - I'll think
about speeder bikes, instead." he added
"It will end up being a dream about feminism." Obi-Wan chuckled.
"Why feminism?" Maul asked, looking utterly confused.
"Because it is the only context I can think of where fish and speeders make
sense together." Obi-Wan explained, still chuckling.
The Zabrak looked at him as if he was totally nuts and that made him laugh even
more.
"They say that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a speeder bike." he
clarified.
Maul tilted his head doubtfully. "I am starting to realise that everyone needs
at least a person to care for them." he objected.
"Well, I also think it is true. - Obi-Wan replied with a smile - But I think
that the feminists meant it more in the sense that women don't need to belong
to a man to be complete. That their lives make sense on their own." he
explained.
"Well, of course." Maul replied, looking confused.
"It is not that obvious to many, both men and women." Obi-Wan retorted.
Maul hesitated a moment. "You're right. - he assented finally, sighing and
hanging his head - When you are someone's property, they tell you that you are
nothing without them, and you believe it. It's hard to stop believing it." he
confessed wryly.
"Give it time, you'll see that it will get a bit easier every day." the Padawan
reassured him, yawning towards the end. "Sorry!" he said, stifling another
yawn.
Maul yawned as well. "It's my fault. I am being logorrhoic again. Let's stop
talking and take this nap, shall we?" he proposed, letting his eyes shut again.
"Yes, let's." Obi-Wan approved, closing his eyes against the glare of the day
filtering through the window.
Maul rumbled something that could have sounded like "good night" and hit the
control for the blinds, bathing the room in penumbra.
Obi-Wan smiled and relaxed, then started thinking really hard about fish, hard
enough to blot out Master Fisto and the Sith bastard, all the worry and all the
insecurity.
His last thought before a scaly, squirming darkness overtook him, was that it
would be a crazy adventure.
***** On The Line *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     Warning: a bit of bad language, angry master Fisto and a bit of
     politics. The reasons for Master Fisto's behaviour will be finally
     explained in the next chapter, so bare with me for a little while
     more.
     Thanks a lot to all the people who took the time to review, fave or
     put this fic in their alerts. Your appreciation means very much to
     me, but don't feel shy about providing constructive criticism. I am
     always willing to improve.
     Just excuse my British-isms, if you can. As every immigrant before
     me, I tend to imitate the language I am more exposed to.
     I also wish to warn you in advance that this story will be rated M
     from next chapter, mostly for violence and dark themes. If you feel
     you cannot deal with an M-rated fic, PM me and we'll discuss about
     alternative special arrangements.
     Apart from that, flame all you want, I'm fireproof.
When they arrived, Obi-Wan was as ready for them as he could ever be.
Master Fisto had not come alone. At his side, Obi-Wan could sense a patrol of
Palace Guards, concerned but determined.
He could feel them advance through the corridors, confident and righteous,
convinced that theirs was the only possible way of keeping everyone safe. Obi-
Wan admired their resolve and selflessness, but he was equally resolute not to
let their plans come to fruition.
He cast a last look at his still-sleeping charge and rose from his seat. He had
changed back into his Jedi robes and his lightsaber, recovered from the bottom
of the reactor by the maintenance squads, hung from his waist, its weight
reassuring and familiar.
He felt worried, scared even, but under the fear, a stony determination had
pervaded his being. He knew he was risking much by opposing a Jedi Master, but
he ran a far more serious risk by doing nothing, the risk of letting down a
person he had grown to care for.
And it was not as if Master Fisto could expel him from the Order on his own.
That would require a full meeting of the Council and would probably have to
wait until they all were back on Coruscant, and anyway he was not planning to
do anything too extreme, like pulling a lightsaber on him.
Master Fisto normally was an easy-going, friendly person, and he knew that he
was acting out of the most noble intentions. If he could just talk to him
calmly, he was confident that he could make him see reason.
The presences drew closer. It was time to act.
Obi-Wan opened the door and stepped out just in front of the approaching Master
Fisto. He crossed his arms and stood as tall and straight as possible just in
front of the threshold, blocking the way. The Force enveloped him and he
realised that he was doing more or less the same thing a cat or a dog would do
to defend their territories, making himself look big and strong both in the
material realm and in the Force. Put in that way, it sounded totally
ridiculous, but as Master Fisto did the same, Obi-Wan realised it was deadly
serious.
Fisto was nearly a foot taller than him, and at least ten years his senior, but
as the Nautolan's Force-presence brushed against his, Obi-Wan had the feeling
that if he really wanted, he could take on him and win. Their power was
reasonably well-matched and he would have the advantage of surprise. He could
drop a Force-blast to scatter the soldiers, and then it would be a matter of
getting inside the taller man's reach and dealing an incapacitating blow. He
wouldn't need to kill him, just to knock him out for a while.
A headbutt to the nose, or a punch to the jaw would do, or even better, a
slight pressure on the side of the neck, just above the carotid artery, and no
matter how tall, the Nautolan would fold to the ground like a wet sheet.
Obi-Wan immediately recognised where those thoughts were coming from, he was
borrowing Maul's combat-readiness and hyperfocus, and pushed them aside with
relative ease.
That was the last possible resort, the option that would probably cast him
beyond the pale, even if no lasting damage was dealt.
Negotiation first, teras käsi later, if ever.
"Step aside, Padawan Kenobi." Master Fisto ordered, hopefully unaware of his
train of thoughts.
"Sorry, Master, but I don't think I will." Obi-Wan replied, trying to soften
his words with a goofy smile.
"I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation, young man." the
Nautolan declared, still outwardly calm, but Obi-Wan could feel that his temper
was rising. He felt confused and frustrated and most likely didn't understand
why Obi-Wan was disobeying a direct order, why he was trying to protect a
Darksider as if his welfare was paramount.
If only he could make Master Fisto understand his reasons!
"In fact, I do, Master. - Obi-Wan replied - And if I don't, I hope that at
least Grand Master Yoda had understood it, when he gave me the task to oversee
the rehabilitation of the prisoner." he added cheekily, confiding in the fact
that the mention of superior orders would give Master Fisto some pause.
The Nautolan glared at him. "If ever such a thing can be achieved." he scoffed.
"Master Yoda believes so. And I must say that the results are quite encouraging
so far." Obi-Wan insisted, smiling peacefully.
"Yes, if the Sith is not deceiving you on all counts. - Master Fisto insisted -
They are masters of deception, Padawan Kenobi. This one might be luring you
into thinking that he is changing, but how do you know for sure?" he added.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't. But I have no proof of the contrary either. When
one ever does in interpersonal relationships? - he commented airily - I am
giving him the benefit of the doubt, for now. It would be counter-productive to
do otherwise. Antagonising a potential witness, or even a potential refugee?
That's a no-no, as far as I know."
"It is a risk that you might be willing to take, for Grand Master Yoda or for
your own personal reasons, - Master Fisto retorted dryly - but I cannot and
will not allow you to put others at risk. This is a hospital. Think of all the
non-forceful civilians the Sith could be endangering! Think of the doctors who
are trying to do their jobs!"
"I bet you are thinking of one doctor in particular..." Obi-Wan thought.
"Doctor Naberrie concurs with me, as you surely know." he said out loud.
That was enough to make the Nautolan darken with emotion.
"Doctor Naberrie is too trusting for her own good. She does not recognise the
true magnitude of the risk." he declared, struggling to keep his cool.
"Are you implying that she is not Forceful enough to be trusted to take her own
decisions?" Obi-Wan asked, feigning innocence.
That gave him pause. "That's not what I said." he protested, looking rather
dismayed.
"That was how it sounded. - Obi-Wan insisted - Doc and I are the only two
people involved in delivering medical assistance to Maul..."
"Ah right, you are a close chum of that.. of that Sith, now..." Master Fisto
spat, unable to find a worse expletive.
"It is called trying to build a rapport. It is a negotiation technique. - Obi-
Wan explained patiently - He can hardly be expected to switch to our side and
help us find the Master, if we treat him like an enemy."
"A Sith, switch to the Light? That has never happened before, and will never
happen in future. Once you fall, there is no way back." he declared, glaring at
him and Obi-Wan realised that Master Fisto was warning him of his own fate, or
at least thought he was.
The Padawan took a deep breath and shook his head. "Loads of things never
happened before, until they happened. Think of hyperspace travel... - he
explained - I've told this to the Elders of the Council once already. Didn't
they brief you before they sent you here? This is a special case." he declared,
adamant.
"The only special thing here is your willingness to be deceived, Padawan. -
Master Fisto objected - What are you trying to prove? That you are better than
everyone else? That you can succeed where everyone else has failed throughout
history?" he asked, taking a menacing step forward.
"I am not trying to prove anything. - Obi-Wan retorted - I am choosing to hope
that people can change. I am trying to help."
"You are being reckless and willful, like a spoiled youngling. - Master Fisto
declared - Your desire for certain things to happen doesn't make them more
true." he added patronisingly.
Obi-Wan felt a surge of irritation at his words and tried to will it into
nothingness, but that gave Master Fisto the time for another jab.
"And we foolishly thought that your permanence in the Agri-Corps had cured you
of your hubris..." he commented, dramatically waving a hand in the air.
The Padawan's heart skipped a beat and he could feel the tiny shard of Dark
that he carried inside himself bloom in anger.
Damned Fisto, he thought. Why did he have to bring that up now, after more than
ten years? Did he think that he could humiliate him into submission? That was
so not going to happen.
"Says the guy who is convinced that he already knows everything... - he spat -
What is more hubris? Working hard to help a fellow sentient, or denying that
help in the name of an old dogma?" he asked, unable to prevent his voice from
rising.
"It is not a dogma! It is reality! - Master Fisto shouted back - You can either
accept it or not, but you cannot change it!"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath to prevent himself from punching the Nautolan in the
jaw and stop his yammering.
"You know what, Master? You are right. I can't change things." he admitted.
Master Fisto looked at him with confusion painted all over his green face. The
words he was hearing must sound like victory to him, but he must be realising
that his expression didn't match them.
"He can. - Obi-Wan continued, jabbing his pointing to the door at his back over
his shoulder - What I can and I will do, is give him the support and the trust
he needs to change them. And that includes barring from his door people who are
too busy cowering in fear to trust the Force." he added, delivering the final
jab with a seraphic smile.
"You are overstepping your bounds, Padawan Kenobi!" Master Fisto threatened,
clenching his hands tightly at his sides.
"No, Master. You are overstepping yours. - Obi-Wan retorted decisively,
refusing to let himself be intimidated - I had my orders from Grand Master Yoda
in person. If you have issues with that, I suggest you discuss the matter with
him. Until then, I will carry on my mission as I see best, and I suggest that
you do the same. Oh, and by the way, Anakin is participating in a training
event this afternoon, in case you were looking for him..." he added with
vicious satisfaction, calling him out on his ruse.
Master Fisto became nearly olive-green with anger. His head-tentacles slithered
like snakes, which was rather creepy, and, most worryingly, his hand
subconsciously dropped towards the hilt of his saber.
Instinctively, Obi-Wan perked up, standing tall and relaxing his shoulders and
arms to prepare himself for a fast draw or an even faster surprise attack.
Maybe that teras käsi plan B would come in handy after all, he thought.
He held the Nautolan's smouldering solid-black gaze and slowly let his reach
expand through the Force, trying to feel his opponent's intentions, trying to
detect the moment when shit was going to hit the fan before it did. To
complicate matters, the Palace Guards were also getting edgy, and edgy people
with weapons were notoriously trigger-happy.
"Oh, what a mess..." Obi-Wan thought, feeling one of the soldiers approaching
the end of his tether.
"Soldiers of Naboo! - a female voice shouted, from the end of the corridor - By
order of the Queen, stand down!"
The soldiers immediately turned towards the voice and even Obi-Wan risked a
glance. One of the Queen's handmaidens was stalking towards them with as much
of a commanding attitude as a five-foot-four adolescent could muster.
Her face was partly obscured by the hood of her office robes, but even so, Obi-
Wan had the distinct impression that the girl was none other than Queen Amidala
herself, under her now-usual disguise.
Doc trailed her, looking quite harried but victorious. Amidala was on their
side, then.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath in relief and allowed himself to relax a fraction.
"What is the matter, Handmaiden?" Master Fisto asked, turning towards the two
women with evident irritation.
"It has been brought to Her Majesty's attention that you want to place the
prisoner under restraints." Padmè said.
The Nautolan nodded. "That is correct." he assented.
"Her Majesty wishes to inform you that, according to the Naboo law, wounded
prisoners-of-war can only be placed under restraints if they break their
parole." Padmè continued calmly.
"The Sith is a prisoner of the Jedi Order." Master Fisto retorted.
"But you are still operating under Naboo jurisdiction, Master." she objected
politely.
"Parole, eh? - Fisto commented with evident sarcasm - What is parole to a Sith,
I wonder?"
Padmè ignored his comment. "Has the Sith given you his parole, Padawan Kenobi?"
she asked, turning towards him.
"He has." Obi-Wan replied with absolute certainty. Never in so many words, but
without any shadow of doubt.
"The case is clear, then. - Padmè declared, nodding to herself - If the
prisoner does not resume hostilities, it would be unlawful to place him under
restrains, both by Naboo law and by the Glactic Convention on Sentient Rights."
she added with finality.
"When the Sith resumes hostilities, it will be too late to restrain him! - the
Nautolan fumed - In the interest of safety, he must not be left free to cause
harm!" he insisted.
"I am afraid we cannot lawfully allow you to do that." Padmè replied calmly,
with a minute shake of her hooded head.
"This is ridiculous! - Master Fisto exclaimed - I request to speak directly to
the Queen on this matter."
"I will convey your request to Her Majesty. - Padmè agreed with a sketchy bow -
Her staff will let you know in the morrow." she added.
Obi-Wan had to bite the inside of his cheek quite hard to prevent himself from
chuckling.
Master Fisto looked like he was totally going to blow a gasket. He looked
beyond Padmè, towards Doc, who was standing there stone-faced and silent. They
exchanged a long, silent look, then Master Fisto looked away.
"I see..." he murmured sadly then turned and walked away without even a
semblance of a by-your-leave, head bowed and shoulders slumped in defeat. All
his anger had dissipated, leaving a sad, melancholy feeling in its wake. Obi-
Wan turned towards Doc. That feeling had infected her as well, and she watched
him walk away with a wistful, almost yearning expression.
"I'll talk to him." she said to Padmè. The young woman nodded and Doc followed
Fisto's trail at a brisk pace.
"We apologise for our conduct, Handmaiden. We thought the Jedi Master was
acting according to the Queen's wishes." the leader of the Guards declared in
the ensuing silence. He looked confused and possibly guilty and Obi-Wan
imagined that he would be worrying about his position, as he had, in effect,
aided an illegal activity.
Padmè sighed. "I am sure you were acting in good faith, Sergeant." she
assented.
"What are our orders, then?" he asked with evident relief.
"You are to return to your usual stations and carry on with your duties." Padmè
replied without hesitation.
It was the Sergeant who hesitated instead. "Do you want us to make rounds in
this corridor, just in case?" he asked.
"There is no need for that. - she replied - The prisoner has given his parole
and Padawan Kenobi is more than enough to restrain him, if need be." she added,
casting Obi-Wan a significant look.
"As you wish, Handmaiden. We will be on our way." the Sergeant said, trying to
mask his perplexity.
"Company! About-face! March!" he ordered, and the men under his command turned
smartly on their heels and marched away, leaving him and Padmè alone in the
corridor.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. You got us out of a really tight spot. " Obi-Wan said
quietly.
Padmè smiled."How many times do i have to tell you to call me by name, Obi-Wan?
- she chided him gently - And it's not me you have to thank, but Aunt Sadé. She
was very convincing and vocal in furthering your friend's cause." she added.
This time, Obi-Wan didn't see the point in correcting her and let it be.
"Still, it was you who put your credibility on the line. For this, you have my
gratitude." he insisted.
"It's not as if I lied. Everything I said is actually true by law." she
retorted with a graceful shrug.
"I never imagined the contrary." Obi-Wan said.
Another smile appeared on her face, but he could sense some unease, some
tension in the lines of her visage.
"The prisoner... Maul... - she said with some effort - Is he awake?" she asked.
Obi-Wan considered lying to her to let Maul have another afternoon of peace,
but looking at the steely expression on Padmè's face, he almost immediately
discarded the idea.
"Yes, he is." he replied.
Maul had woken up sometime during his face-off with Master Fisto, roused either
by their raised voices or by the aggressive vibes coming from him through the
link they were still sharing.
"I need to talk to him." Padmè declared, and what was Obi-Wan supposed to reply
to that, after what she had done for him and Maul?
"Alright." he had to concede.
He couldn't stall for time either. The only advance warning he could give Maul
to make the experience even slightly less stressful was a mental nudge along
the lines of "We got company!".
Maul was wide awake when they got in the room, half-sitting against the raised
slope of the bed. He acknowledged Obi-Wan with a look, a nod and a pulse
through the link, and then turned an intense gaze towards Padmè.
Obi-Wan forced a smile as the two locked stares in silence, as trying to
decipher each other.
"Hi, Maul. - he said cheerfully - Sorry for barging on you like this... This is
Handmaiden Padmè." he added, trying to break the ice.
"This is no Handmaiden. This is Queen Amidala." Maul retorted without batting
an eye.
Padmè lost her composure, looking first at Maul and then at Obi-Wan with
surprise and dismay.
"Did you...?!" she started, quite evidently incensed.
"I did not say a word, I swear!" Obi-Wan tried to exculpate himself. He had
even tried not to think much about it, in case Maul could catch the information
by chance.
"There was no need for him to tell me anything. - Maul intervened quietly -
Some face paint and a change of clothes can fool many people, but I research my
hits thoroughly. I can recognise your face beyond your disguise, Your Majesty."
he declared.
Padmè pulled her hood down with an irritated gesture and crossed her arms over
her chest. "Damn it! - she cursed - So what, would you have killed me, if
Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan hadn't crossed your path?"
"Not really. I just had to kidnap you." Maul retorted.
"And deliver me to Gunray." Padmè continued.
"Unfortunately." Maul assented, grimacing in disgust.
Padmè let a low, nervous chuckle escape her lips. "So it's not just me. No one
actually likes him." she commented.
Maul nodded. "Trade Federation officers are not even worth the effort it takes
to kill them." he said.
"You sound like you are speaking out of experience..." Padmè insinuated.
"And what if I do?" Maul retorted, crossing his arms as well.
"Why did your Master ally himself with them, then?" Padmè asked, avoiding his
question.
Maul sighed and shook his head. "To make the Republic and the Jedi look like
ineffective, weak fools. I thought it was obvious." he replied with a sneer.
"Not that ineffective, after all." she retorted, casting a sharp glance towards
him.
Even if it was very hard to tell, Obi-Wan had the impression that Maul had
blushed at her words.
"Not at all... - he conceded, briefly looking at Obi-Wan - If you consider
specific individuals. But the system... If Valorum hadn't acted outside of
normal procedure, the Senate would still be discussing the matter, and you
would have been forced to sign that treaty, whether you wanted or not." he
added, still unwilling to concede.
"The Senate would have sanctioned such an aggression." Padmè objected.
Maul snorted. "The Senate is corrupt and myopic. There is no unified vision for
the future of the Galaxy and most decisions are made to appease one lobby or
another. - he retorted - Take the taxation of the trade routes, for example..."
"What about it? - Padmè asked, frowning and crossing her arms - It was meant to
support the economic growth of small systems, forcing them to rely less on
imports and more on their own productive capabilities."
"Speaking out of experience, eh?" Maul provoked.
Padmè blushed and shot him a dark look. "The plasma fields have brought
unprecedented prosperity to Naboo, but they have also induced our economy to be
increasingly reliant on those revenues." she clarified.
"And you don't want to end up like the all other systems gorged up on plasma-
credits." Maul completed, still with a hint of sneer in his voice.
"Well, would you want that for your people?" Padmè asked.
"I don't actually belong to any people... - Maul objected with a shrug - But,
no, I don't think I would." he added, melancholy.
"So now you see why Naboo backed that resolution." Padmè concluded smugly.
"In a perfect world, that would have made sense. - Maul conceded - But in
reality... The Trade Federation has its reasons, as much as I dislike them." he
argued, even as he grimaced in disgust.
"Reasons?! - Padmè burst out - They are surely rich enough to be able to afford
the payment." she retorted.
"You've never been to the Outer Rim much, have you, Your Majesty? - Maul
provoked, smirking knowingly - I bet Tattooine has been the farthest you have
travelled Rimwards..."
"So what?" Padmè objected, frowning in irritation.
"So you have no idea of what's out there. - Maul jabbed - Why do you think the
Federation needs so many capital ships? Because there are sectors in the Rim
that are infested by pirates and slavers and raiders of all sorts. Places where
the only safe way of travelling is in a convoy, with armed support." he
explained, without leaving her the time to reply.
"This must be a gross exaggeration." Padmè said with decision.
Maul rolled his eyes and gestured towards Obi-Wan, encouraging him to
partecipate in the discussion.
The Padawan until then had been entirely happy with watching the two of them
butt heads, but now, as both the Queen and his charge looked at him
expectantly, there was no way that he could exempt himself from contributing.
"Unfortunately, this is quite accurate." he said with a sigh.
Maul turned back towards Padmè with a smug expression.
"The commercial guilds invest a lot of credits in keeping their routes and
their cargo relatively safe. - he said - You can imagine how much it must chafe
that the central Galactic government is demanding that they pay for something
to which it has not contributed."
"That is not true. The Outer Rim Security Force..." Padme started to object,
but Maul didn't let her finish.
"...Is understaffed and frankly inadequate. - he cut in - The Galactic
government talks and talks, but does nothing. It can do nothing. It does not
have an army and has to rely on mercs and the Jedi Order to fix things when
they go pear-shaped."
"We are sworn to keep the peace. It is only natural that they turn to us." Obi-
Wan intervened, trying to smooth things out.
"And you accept any assignement, without questioning." Maul continued.
"And why do you think this is a bad idea?" Obi-Wan asked, rather confused.
"The Galactic government is corrupt, right?" Maul asked.
Obi-Wan nodded, feeling that he would not like where the conversation was
going, but feeling also that he needed to see where it went.
"Ever suspected that they were using you to do their dirty job?" Maul insisted.
Padmè protested, incensed, and Obi-Wan would have liked to deny it as well, but
deep down he knew that he could not. Not after what happened on Gallidaraan,
not after a Jedi expedition had been sent into a trap against the Bando Gora on
Baltizaar.
"And what can we do? We can't oppose the Galactic Senate." Obi-Wan protested.
"And why not? - Maul provoked - The system is rotten, and you people are the
best placed to clean up things."
"We are not the Galactic police." Obi-Wan objected, but that excuse sounded
weak even to himself.
"No, you are the violent arm of the Galactic law only against small fish." Maul
spat.
"We do not seek power for our own. We guarantee the Republican values." Obi-Wan
insisted, steadfastly, supported by energetic nodding from Padmè.
"Well, those values are being trampled for the sake of power and credits. And
you are standing by and just watch as it happens. - Maul attacked, leaning
towards Obi-Wan in the heat of the argument - You have power, whether you want
it or not. By not exercising it, you appear too weak to solve anything, or
accomplices of the corruption. Sidious used to say that you were the cause of
the decadence of the Republic. Now I realise it is not true, but you aren't
helping either! You could change everything, but you refuse to do it. That's
suicidal!" he concluded, shaking his head.
Obi-Wan wished he could find the words to reply, to deny what Maul had just
said, but part of him resonated with those words. The Jedi could make things
better, but to act on that possibility...
The seduction of power could prove too enticing, the temptation too strong. And
then it would be a short, easy step to believing that the end justifies all
sorts of means, all sorts of prevarication, all sorts of repression and
cruelty, until they became worse than what they had set out to destroy.
But if there was a way of changing things without falling?
Shouldn't they be trying to find it, instead of pretending that the
degeneration of the Republic was not happening?
He, for one, refused to believe that it was beyond salvation and he couldn't be
the only one.
Oppressed by doubts and in turmoil, Obi-Wan couldn't speak, could barely think
coherently. He could feel Maul's eyes boring into him, he knew that he was
waiting for him to reply, and he could feel that the more he waited, the more
his charge's eagerness turned into anxiety and guilt. Maul must be already
regretting that he had spoken so frankly and Obi-Wan wished he could reassure
him, but he was locked in his own internal debate.
It was Padmè who broke the impasse, instead.
"I should have imagined it. - she commented - So the solution is a strong
central government with a unified vision? A man of destiny to save us all? I am
sure that your Master will be more than happy to play the role of the
benevolent dictator..." she said, voice rising as she spoke.
Her fair countenance coloured in indignation and her eyes sparkled, but that
didn't make her look like a spoiled adolescent. Now more than ever she looked
like a Queen, like a powerful being.
Even Maul hesitated, faced with that outburst.
"I do not know what the solution is anymore. I am not even sure one exists. -
he admitted softly, bowing his head in dejection - What I have learned, is that
whatever Sidious' plan might be, it doesn't contemplate fixing the Republic or
making things better. He doesn't care about it. He doesn't care about anyone
but himself. He would not use his power to free, but to enslave, not to fix,
but to break. He would make everyone a tool, or a plaything." he added, looking
down at his hands, clenched into tight fists on the coverlet.
"Like me..." Obi-Wan heard through the link, and his heart broke a bit at the
desolation contained in that thought.
He stepped towards the bed and laid a hand on Maul's shoulder, squeezing it
gently in reassurance.
Maul sighed and raised his gaze towards Obi-Wan. "I was doing it again. I
should try to get a grip on this..." he said with a wry smile.
"There is no need. I promised you that I would listen to you." Obi-Wan replied.
"Even so. I shouldn't burden you with my Dark Side nonsense." Maul added,
laying a hand over Obi-Wan's.
Padmè was looking at them in perplexed fascination, her expression softening by
degrees.
"It wasn't nonsense. - she said gently - Many people have concerns of that
sort."
Maul looked at her in surprise. "Really?!" he said.
"Yes, really." she confirmed.
"I never... I never dared to doubt before. But now I can't stop..." Maul
admitted quietly.
"I can't speak for the Jedi, but regular people do doubt. Welcome to normalcy.
You'll get used to it eventually." Padmè commented, deadpan.
Maul gave her a bemused look and shook his head.
"Oh well, Jedi doubt as well, sometimes." Obi-Wan confessed, judging that
honesty was more important than perceived authority.
"Not so wise, then?" Maul provoked, but without malice.
"And what is wisdom anyway? Already having all the answers, or asking the
appropriate questions and accepting the answers without prejudice?" Obi-Wan
retorted.
Maul nodded, now serious, and sent a pulse of gratitude along the link.
"Sorry about lowering the standard of the discussion, guys, but I need to get
down to my original business and leave, before my absence is remarked." Padmè
chimed in, making them both turn towards her.
"What can I do for you, Your Majesty?" Maul asked, directing one of his
inquisitive looks at her.
Padmè didn't baulk. "I need you to give me your parole that you will not
initiate acts of hostility towards any Naboo citizen, or any person currently
assisting the Naboo government." she declared, straight to the point.
"With the latter you mean the Jedi." Maul observed.
The Queen nodded. "And any official from the Galactic Senate." she added.
"Why would you accept my parole as guarantee? - Maul asked, frowning - Are you
not afraid I will lie? I considered myself a Sith after all..." he added
quietly, shaking his head.
"You gave your parole to Obi-Wan and he accepted it. So far you haven't broken
it." Padmè explained.
"It's not as if I can actually perform any act of hostility, in my situation."
Maul had to clarify.
"Would you, if you could?" she asked, leveling an equally penetrating stare at
him.
Maul hesistated again, and Obi-Wan could sense the conflict inside him between
what Sidious had drilled into him and what he himself saw as right and wrong.
"I would not. - he said finally - You have sheltered me and prevented the Jedi
to cause me harm. I won't initiate any hostility, but I reserve the right to
defend myself in case of aggression." he proposed.
Padmè nodded. "Of course, but I will ensure that it doesn't come to that. - she
conceded - Do I have your word, then?" she insisted.
"You do." Maul replied with a curt nod.
"Let's shake on it." Padmè said, thrusting her right hand towards him.
Maul looked at her hand in confusion, then cast a glance at Obi-Wan, who smiled
and shrugged. The Zabrak sighed and grabbed the Queen's hand, making eye
contact again, but warily this time.
Padmè pumped his hand decisively. "It's done then." she commented, letting her
hand fall to her side.
"Yes..." Maul replied quietly, looking at his own hand in astonishment for a
moment before raising his gaze to the Queen.
"I'll leave you two to your own devices, then. I'll see you later." Padmè said,
sighing and stretching.
Maul and Obi-Wan watched her leave in weary silence.
"She is a bright one. And brave." Maul commented, flopping against the incline
of the bed.
"I knew you would like her." Obi-Wan said, winking playfully at his charge as
he let himself fall on the chair next to the bed.
No more than an hour must have passed in total since had risen from that same
chair, but he felt as weary as if he had not slept for weeks on end.
"I didn't say I liked her." Maul objected.
"You didn't need to. It was kind of obvious." Obi-Wan replied.
"I was told that non-forcefuls were weak, but she is as strong as durasteel
wrapped in silk. Her and Doc both." the Zabrak said, closing his eyes for a
moment.
"Even if Doc is more like durasteel wrapped in surgical greens. - Obi-Wan
continued, making his charge chuckle - How are you feeling, by the way?"
"Exhausted. - Maul admitted - Apart from that, I don't know how I am feeling. I
don't even know what I am supposed to be feeling." he added, grimacing in self-
deprecation.
Obi-Wan scratched his chin, noting with chagrin that it was stubbly once more.
Maybe he should just give up and grow a beard once and for all.
"I am not sure there is a way people are supposed to be feeling, when in your
situation. - he said - Whatever way you feel is fine, I think, as long as you
accept it. I am always here, if you want to talk about it." he offered.
A patterned hand came to rest on his and squeezed gently. "I will, but I think
I have talked enough for today. - Maul whispered - Thank you, anyway. For this
and for putting your career on the line for me." he added, a bit more strongly.
Obi-Wan smiled, and squeezed back, trying to find the right words to say.
"It wasn't as risky as that." he minimised, feeling awkward.
"Still, you shouldn't have. It wasn't worth it. He only wanted to restrain me
and I can take that. - Maul insisted - I am better now. It wouldn't have
triggered anything." he added, but his haunted expression belied his confident
words. He still hadn't managed to rebuild the walls of indifference he had
protected himself with until then.
"The fact that you can take something, doesn't necessarily mean that you
should. - Obi-Wan retorted - You don't have to demonstrate anything to me. I
know you are brave. I know you are strong. And taking risks for someone is par
for the course when you care about them." he added, taking another big risk in
revealing that last detail.
If Maul was just manipulating him, he had just given him a key weapon to
undermine him with, but if he was not, if his behaviour was genuine as he
thought it was, he deserved to know that. He deserved to know that someone
cared about him.
Maul regarded him in silence for a long moment, caught between hope and
disbelief. A tendril of Force hovered at the edge of Obi-Wan's shields, but
without actually making contact.
The Padawan latched on to it with his own Force, and drew it in, past his
shields, sensing the terrible hope and the terrible fear that emanated from his
nemesis.
Fear melted away like snow in spring, leaving something bright and beautiful
and warm like the sun, and for a moment Obi-Wan basked shamelessly into it,
experiencing a strange and oddly satisfying mixture of deep peace and equally
deep, complex passion. It only lasted a moment before Maul withdrew and
retreated behind his newly-reformed shields, leaving only a thin link between
them.
"What if Fisto is right? - he asked withdrawing his hand as well - What if I
let you down in the end?"
"You won't, I am sure of it. - Obi-Wan reassured him, feeling a pang of
rejection at the sudden break of contact - I believe in you. I believe that if
you can do whatever you set yourself to do, no matter how hard. You will find a
way." he added, trying to put all his conviction into his words and thoughts.
"I suppose I am that stubborn..." Maul joked, but he didn't look amused.
He looked deadly serious and Obi-Wan could feel the fire of his Force rise in
him, as strong as when he had first met him, but clearer, as if the smoke
surrounding it had dispersed.
There were still bits of darkness clinging to it, but he was sure that they
would disappear in time.
It was amazing.
"Resolute sounds better." Obi-Wan replied with a smile and this time Maul
smiled back and relaxed his control on the link.
"We are both rather resolute, then." he joked, extending his hand in search of
contact again.
Obi-Wan took it and nodded. "The Galaxy ain't seen nothing yet..." he declared,
hinting at possibilities to come, at adventures, at laughter and companionship,
at life as it was supposed to be.
A flash of hope and yearning passed over Maul's eyes and he sat up a bit
straighter in the bed. "No, they have not. The best is yet to come." he
promised.
***** The Evidence of Hope *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     Warning: lemon and not-too-graphic violence, some of it on children,
     including some deaths. Since it deals often with dark themes such as
     child abuse, slavery and violence, this fic will be rated M from now
     onwards.
     Unfortunately, the first lemon of this fic is not between the two
     main characters. Be patient, we will get there eventually.
     For those who wonder, Darth Imperius and Darth Silentium are none
     other that Sith Inquisitor Sereq Kallig and her apprentice Xalek from
     my SWTOR fic "The Darkness of our Hearts", which you can find over at
     FF.net (I might x-post it soon).
     Finally, sorry for the delay in posting. I was doing the NaNoWriMo
     for one of my OF projects and didn't have any time to do anything
     else.
     Flame all you want, I'm fireproof.
Sadé had always thought that Kit's tall stature was part of his attractiveness,
but now, as she tried to tail him as he stalked through the corridors it was
mostly a bloody nuisance.
"Kit!" she called out, trotting in a rather undignified manner. He didn't even
turn to look at her.
"Bloody stubborn Nautolan!" she thought, quickening her pace further.
"Kit! - she called again - Master Kit Fisto!"
This time he turned towards her, stopping in the middle of the corridor and
facing her with thunder in his eyes. His head-tentacles rustled in anger and,
even with her limited grasp of the Force, she could see that his control over
his emotions was weakening.
"Doctor Naberrie. - he said between gritted teeth - What else do you want from
me?"
"We need to talk." she said, pretending that the anger and the distance in his
voice didn't hurt her.
"There is nothing more to say." he retorted flatly.
"This is not true. - Sadé said - I am sorry that I had to antagonise you, OK?
But I can explain." she offered.
"Then do it, because I cannot understand. It's as if I had never truly known
you." he conceded, slumping his broad shoulders and hanging his head in
weariness and defeat.
"I am no different now from when we were at the Temple." she reassured him,
fighting the impulse to close the distance between them and embrace him. She
had never managed to stay angry with him for long when he was like that. No
matter how formidable any Jedi looked, most of them were still in need of care,
closeness and reassurance, as much as they told themselves that they did not.
"Come to my office. I will tell you everything, I promise." she entreated.
Kit nodded curtly, without a word. Sighing, Sadé turned on her heel and started
to make her way towards her office.
"I am here. Now explain." Kit declared, crossing his arms over his chest. The
short walk to her office must have rekindled is bad mood, judging from his
rigid stance and the determined set of his jaw.
"Right." Sadé exhaled. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind from
all the unnecessary noise, quickly plotting a strategy to convince him.
"When they sent you here, what did the Council tell you about Maul?" she asked.
Kit bristled visibly at her use of the prisoner's name, but she didn't even
think of amending her statement.
"That he is a Sith and that he had nearly killed Master Qui-Gon Jinn. That is
information enough." Kit replied dryly.
"Didn't they tell you that he was basically a slave and a survivor of child
abuse?" Sadé insisted.
"They told me that Padawan Kenobi believed so. - Kit explained, shrugging
dismissively - But Sith are notoriously deceitful, and I reckon most people
would try to play the victim card to gain their captors' sympathy."
"So you assumed that he had lied to Obi-Wan." Sadé commented.
"It was the most prudent assumption when dealing with a dangerous criminal."
Kit assented.
"Technically, he is a enemy combatant and not a criminal." Sadé clarified.
"Technically, yes. And your point is?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"And my point is that you didn't even try to ascertain if Obi-Wan's allegations
were true. - Sadé retorted, irritated by his attitude - I did."
That seemed to shake him out of his stance. "Did you find any proof?" he asked,
uncrossing his arms.
"It's very hard to find definite proof of abuse, especially if it is
historical. - she admitted - But I have found some evidence."
"Show me." Kit demanded, urgency colouring his words and making his head-
tentacles writhe worryingly.
"I will, even if I should not. Some of it is confidential medical information.
- she explained - But you need to see, in order to understand." she added.
Sadé turned towards her terminal and booted up Maul's medical file, selecting
an image from the medscans and loading it into the holoprojector.
"Why are you showing me a bone scan?" Kit asked, perplexed.
"Can you see that ridge there?" she asked, magnifying the image and pointing
the feature out.
"Yes I can, but..." Kit conceded, frowning.
"That is the bone scar of a fracture. An old twisting fracture in this case. -
she clarified - It is a kind of fracture that is caused by someone twisting the
victim's forearm until the bones snap. It is a typical sign of child abuse, and
he has them on both arms."
Kit gave her a horrified look, but she ignored him and loaded up another image,
a dorsal view of Maul's thorax, and highlighted a series of features in the
scan.
"Ignore whatever is not highlighted. It's recent stuff and will probably be
gone quite soon. - she advised - Now, none of the highlighted features is
significant per se, but together they make a very significant pattern." she
added, realising that she was slipping into the teaching mode she used when
lecturing the medical students at Theed Uni. It helped her keep some sort of
emotional distance, at least for the moment.
Thankfully Kit didn't seem offended by her attitude, so she ploughed on.
"Do you see how some of them are aligned almost perfectly?" she continued,
toggling the display to highlight them in a different colour.
Kit nodded, staring at the scan in horrified fascination. Probably he was
getting a pretty accurate idea of what had caused them, but Sadé decided that
he needed to hear it in its full, grisly details.
"These were in all probability caused by beatings with a long, stiff object,
like a stick or a lead pipe, while the victim was trying to protect himself by
curling in fetal position. - she revealed - The randomly aligned marks can be
attributed to hard kicks, in all probability. Both patterns are typically seen
in people rescued from slavery and in abuse victims."
Vaguely nauseated, she switched the display off and Kit turned towards her,
looking like he had been hit himself.
"Together with the twisting fractures on the forearms, these signs indicate
that my patient was subject to severe physical abuse." she summarised, as if
she was in court, which was oddly appropriate, since Kit had decided to pass
judgement on Maul without even bothering to gather the facts.
"The fracture scars look old, so I judge that the abuse must have happened
during his childhood, before he had developed fine control over the Force." she
added.
"It makes sense. - Kit admitted, shaking his head - Most of the scars I have,
are from when we were young. The new ones don't seem to stick around for long."
he commented.
"It is the Force. Once you can control it, it heals all but the most serious
wounds without a scar. That said, Maul will have a permanent souvenir from
Theed on his skin. - Sadé said, trying to make light of it - Are you starting
to reconsider what Obi-Wan told you, now?"
"Sadé, I... I could not just believe it uncritically. I have to be objective."
he tried to justify himself.
"Fair enough. Reserve your judgement. - Sadé conceded - I am not done with
showing the evidence yet."
Kit glanced at her in dismay. "I think I have seen enough." he said.
Sadé shook her head. "No, Kit, you haven't. You have to see it all and hear it
all, to understand."she said, giving him a long, sad look before she returned
to her terminal.
She accessed the encrypted databank of the Naboo Safety Forces using the
password her friend, the head of the Special Victims Unit, had given a few days
before, and called up the evidence from an old, never fully closed case.
"It will take a bit to load. - she announced - And there is no way I am
projecting this in holo."
Kit stepped closer to the terminal and to her, stopping at arm length from her.
"The screen will be fine. - he declared - Is this stuff that bad?"
"You have no idea, Kit. Absolutely no idea. - Sadé replied, shaking her head
and wrapping her arms around herself in futile protection - What I am going to
show you is evidence from a police investigation into a ring of paedophiles
operating via several private chatrooms on the HoloNet. Those people shared and
swapped material all around the Galaxy and one of their servers was here, in
Theed. They found all sorts of terrible stuff, Kit. Pictures, videos...There
were hundreds of victims." she revealed, steeling herself against an impending
bout of tears.
"This is terrible... - he commented, grimacing in horror - How did you get
involved with things like these?" Kit asked.
"One of the key witnesses was a girl from a low-key area of downtown. She
couldn't cope with the abuse anymore and tried to kill herself by jumping in
front of a landspeeder, but didn't succeed. - Sadé replied - I was her surgeon
and we developed... a rapport. I was the first person she told about her
situation and I convinced her to talk to the police."
"Gods, Sadé..." Kit whispered, coming even closer in an attempt to comfort her,
but she stepped away. If she let him hold her, she would start crying and would
never manage to go through the ordeal of showing him what he needed to see.
Kit sighed, stung by her rejection. "What does this have to do with the
prisioner, Sadé?" he asked wearily.
Sadé hesitated a moment before she could find the words to reply.
"Obi-Wan told me... he told me that Maul had been victim of... other kinds of
abuse as well. - she revealed - People like those involved in the case... they
are serial predators, hit on multiple targets, sometimes trade their victims to
someone else. They film them, and display the pictures like trophies, sharing
them with fellow predators." she explained.
"And you reckoned that the Sith Master could have been involved?" Kit asked,
quirking an eyebrow.
"I did. And I know it would have been risky for him, but if he has always
considered himself above any law, he might have wanted to flaunt his dominance
over what he considered his property. - she argued - Some of the material goes
back some fifteen, twenty years, so I asked the owner of the case down at NSF
to look into it. They have classified everything by victim, you see, trying to
identify them. Some of the children are still nameless after more than five
years from the start of the investigation. I asked them to search among the
nameless for any red-skinned Zabrak boy, with or without markings."
"And did they find him?" Kit asked eagerly.
"They found someone who has a very high probability of being him. A definitive
identification, something, that would hold in court, is not really possible
just from a video. - she clarified - They edited some clips together and sent
them to me."
"I don't want to see paedopornographic stuff!" Kit protested, taking a step
back and raising his hands.
"I would not show that to you, even if they had found any." Sadé retorted,
angry at him for having even thought that she could do something like that.
"Didn't they?" Kit insisted, dropping his hands and shaking his head in
confusion.
"Apparently, the Sith Master didn't want to share his victim for that." Sadé
commented, grimacing.
"Then what did they find?" Kit wondered.
"Do you know what a snuff movie is?" she asked. Kit looked like he had been
punched in the stomach. He knew.
"Something like that, except that according to the police, he survived to
everything they could throw at him. - she added - Let me show you."
"Sadé, I don't think it is necessary. We don't need to see that!" Kit
protested, looking rather panicky.
"Yes, we do. - she replied, transfixing him with her hardest stare - We need to
know what has made him into what he is now, before we can judge. Don't try to
make any excuses. If he could live through that, we can find the strength to
watch it." she chided him.
"You haven't watched this yet?" Kit asked.
Sadé shook her head. "I didn't want to, but I think you need to. You need
proof. And I can't leave you alone with so much horror."
"Sadé..." Kit whispered, almost tenderly.
"Will you watch this with me?" she asked.
Kit nodded weakly. "Yes, I will." he capitulated.
Sadé smiled at him, gently squeezing his arm in reassurance before she turned
back towards the screen. She pressed the play button, and let the horror show
begin.
The video was relatively good quality and full-spectrum, for the obvious reason
of displaying blood and gore in their full glory.
The first clip was dated to fourteen years before and showed a group of
children of around eight to ten years of age, slaves, judging from the metal
collars around their necks, penned in a pit with a pack of hungry lion-lizards.
Among them was a red-skinned Zabrak child. He could be a short ten-year old,
but she would have bet that he was younger than that, eight, or perhaps nine
years old at most. He didn't have any black markings yet, and his eyes, as she
saw when the camera closed up on him at a certain point, were not Sith-yellow
yet, but a very light shade of blue-grey, however the pattern of vestigial
horns on his head coincided with Maul's, and his features were quite similar,
albeit rounder and softer.
The footage was edited to spare the viewers from the worse, but even so, it was
brutal, and quite soon most of the children were either dead or dying on the
sand-covered floor.
The Zabrak boy resisted, almost unscathed, dodging the assaults of the hungry
reptilians and desperately trying to find a way out. He almost managed at a
point, propelling himself against the wall to grab the edge of the pit, but a
guard, or maybe a patron, pushed him back down and, as he fell on the sand
below, one of the lizards got the perfect occasion to attack him.
Wounded and trapped, the boy looked terrified, but managed to stay focused and
alive for a bit longer, and when the patrons started throwing weapons in the
pit to prolong the fun, he grabbed a stick and, screaming in fury, beat one of
the lizards nearly to death and scared off the others, among manic cheers from
the crowd.
The following clip was edited in right after the first, leaving them no time to
take a breath of fresh air before they were plunged back into the horror. This
one was set in a sort of a clandestine prize-fighting ring and the boy, now
probably ten-ish, was facing a burly, fully grown Trandoshan.
It was quite obvious that the boy had been trained in hand-to-hand combat, but
his training helped him next to nothing against the brutality, and the sheer
mass and reach advantage of his opponent. The Trandoshan toyed with him,
kicking him mercilessly around the ring every time the he failed to dodge in
time, among the cheers and jeers of the crowd massed around the ring.
Sadé felt her heart wrench each time the boy gasped in pain, each time he
dragged himself back to his feet to fight.
Soon the he was too hurt and exhausted to dodge effectively and the crowd
started calling for blood.
They started calling for death.
A vibroknife was thrown on the ring, but the Trandoshan ignored it, claiming
that he didn't need anything more than his bare hands to get rid of the midget.
He charged against his intended victim, but the boy managed to avoid him, and
dove towards the knife.
The Trandoshan charged again, slamming the boy to the floor and pinning him
with his weight, grinning like a maniac, until suddenly his expression changed
to one of utter surprise and pain and he slumped down, probably dead.
The boy managed to squirm from under his defeated opponent and painstakingly
got to his feet as the crowd cheered and booed some more and the organisers
dragged the Trandoshan away, with the knife still stuck in his groin.
The rest was more of the same. More blood, more pain, more death.
With every new clip, the boy became better at surviving and fighting back, more
controlled and efficient, more proud of his ability and more indifferent to the
horror of his situation, inured to violence and death, until it all became just
a game.
It would have been easy to think that the experience had killed everything good
and innocent inside him, leaving just an emotionless killer, but there were
small details that gave that thought the lie, small flashes of what little
Light the boy had managed to cling to.
One clip was particularly heart-wrenching in that way, and Sadé couldn't
prevent bitter tears to flow down her face.
The boy was already in his early teens in this clip, thirteen or perhaps
fourteen, not very tall but lean and strong like an athlete.
With the years passed since the previous videos, his face had thinned, his
features sharpened, and now there was little doubt that he was anyone else but
Maul.
He was still attired like a slave, collar and all, and was standing in a pit
again like in the first clip, ready for another death-match.
This time his opponent was an older boy, a tall, thin human with a hairdo that
had been very cool some years before. He was maybe in his late teens,
reasonably smartly dressed, and he didn't look like a prize-fighter. He was
brandishing an electrostaff like he didn't really know what to do with it, and
looked absolutely terrified. Maybe he was a runner or some local agent of the
organisers of the match, someone who had run afoul of the boss and needed to be
punished. He was trembling like a leaf and tears were streaming down his dirt-
streaked face as he waved his weapon clumsily, trying to keep Maul at a
distance.
Maul, instead, looked confident and calm, supremely indifferent to the
clamouring of the crowd.
He advanced upon his opponent and the human swung his weapon wildly, in a
paroxism of panic. Maul avoided it easily and landed a roundhouse kick that
sent the other sprawling to the ground, and waited as the human picked himself
up, whimpering and crying.
The crowd shouted for more.
"Kill him slowly!" someone yelled in encouragement.
"Rip his guts out!" someone added.
"Please! Have mercy!" the human implored, backing against the wall of the pit.
Maul remained impassive, like the words hadn't even registered.
He attacked, ripping the staff out of the human's hands as he tried to respond,
and then in a moment the older boy was trapped in his grip. The Zabrak grabbed
his opponent's chin and the back of his head and twisted sharply. The cervical
vertebrae gave way with a crack, and, as the human slumped in death, Maul
lowered him to the ground almost gently.
It was mercy, the only kind of mercy he had been able to deliver, the mercy of
a quick, almost painless death.
The crowd started shouting and booing, their bloodthirst not yet slaked.
"Why did you kill him so fast, you bloody midget?" a voice yelled through some
sort of speakers.
"He was... - Maul started, interrupting himself with a frown when his still-
changing voice broke - He was too weak. It wasn't any fun." he declared with a
sneer.
"It was fun for us, you twat! And you ruined it! - the voice resumed - Now
we're going to find some other way of getting our fun, don't you think? " it
asked, dripping venom. The crowd exploded in a cheer.
Maul shrugged and stared forward and upwards towards the source of the voice.
His face was calm and his gaze was clear.
He closed his eyes and relaxed his stance, and when the organisers started
shocking him through the collar, not a single sound escaped his lips, even when
he collapsed to the ground, shaken by spasms. Even then, he refused to yield.
"Gods, Sadé..." Kit whispered, when it was all over. His bright green skin had
paled to a sickly grey and the look in his eyes was haunted, hollow.
Sadé herself felt drained and weak, as if she had aged a century in the scant
minutes it had taken them to get to the end of the evidence.
"They said that some of the material came from another investigation." she
forced herself to say. Maybe if she focused on mundane, factual observations
for a while, everything would be better, she thought.
"Something about clandestine prize-fighting. - she added - I suppose he must
have become rather unattractive to predators, by refusing to be a victim.
Apparently some of the later videos were very popular with prize-fighting
aficionados. They still discussed about some of them in private chats on the
HoloNet only a couple of years ago..." she continued, realising that she was
babbling, talking without really paying attention to what she was saying, just
so that she didn't have to think about what she had seen.
"Sadé, stop it!" Kit ordered.
She shook her head. "I can't..." she confessed, close, very close to breaking.
Strong arms enfolded her, and she found herself pressed against Kit's chest.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him and hid her face against the
front of his robes. He smelled familiar and comforting, like the laundry
detergent they used at the Temple, but mostly it was his own scent, the scent
that she had learned to recognise so long ago and would likely never forget,
that smelled like comfort and love.
Some of the tension that had been keeping her functioning until then simply
unwound, and she started crying, sobbing her heart out.
Kit didn't seem to mind that she was dripping all over his Jedi robes and held
her close, tenderly and silently stroking her hair.
He was warm and solid and real, and she knew that she didn't need to be ashamed
of breaking down in front of him.
"Are you better, now?" he asked, when she managed to calm down a bit.
Sadé raised her head, but didn't let go of him. "No. - she confessed - but I
will be. It will take time."
Kit nodded and bent to kiss her brow. "It was... I had never imagined, that
someone could do something like that..." he whispered after a short pause.
"Now you understand, don't you?" Sadé asked.
Kit nodded again. "I do. - he replied - The Sith Master... he did that to him
so that in order to survive, he would have no chance but to give in to the Dark
Side." he commented, shuddering slightly.
"He didn't have any choice." Sadé confirmed.
"Poor boy... I feel so sorry for him." Kit said.
"Then help us, Kit. - she entreated - Help us give him an opportunity."
He shook his head. "I wish I could, Sadé, but we can do nothing for him. It is
too late. - he retorted - He has been raised in the Dark. He was a killer
before puberty. He doesn't know how to live without the Dark Side, and doesn't
have a life before the Fall to look back to for inspiration. How can he find
its way towards the Light, if he barely knows what it is?" he asked, desolated.
"We can show it to him. - Sadé replied, adamant in her convinction - He did
what he had to survive, and normalised it to stay sane. We can show him that he
doesn't need the Dark Side anymore to feel safe. We can be there for him, and
show him that we care. If it works for children soldier, why can't it work for
him?" she asked.
"Because the Dark Side is addictive. A trip without return. Once you start
drawing upon it, it is nearly impossible to let it go." Kit replied with
certainty.
"What about Revan? - Sadé objected - He went all the way and came back."
"He had been a Jedi Master first, and anyway, that is most probably a legend."
Kit replied dismissively.
"And what about Darth Imperius, Darth Silentium and Ashara Zavros? - Sadé
insisted - They were Darksiders, but brokered peace between the Republic and
the Empire. And that is certainly not a legend. I've seen a copy of the
treaty." she added.
"That was a matter of political expediency. - Kit argued - It didn't mean that
they were anywhere close to the Light. A true, full conversion has never been
documented." he added.
"And likely will never be, if you keep on treating potential converts as if
they were totally irredeemable." Sadé rebutted.
Kit sighed and laid his forehead against hers. "You know that I like that you
never give up? - he said - But this time, be reasonable. If you get a patient
with brainrot virus, you keep them isolated so that they don't contaminate the
others, right?" he argued.
"Of course. - Sadé replied - But I try my best to increase their chances of
recovery. And that includes experimental treatment." she jabbed.
Kit sighed. "He has had it so far, I gather. Has it worked?" he inquired.
"It has, Kit. It has. - she replied softly, smiling to herself - You should see
him and Obi-Wan together... They look like brothers, or best friends."
"I have noticed that Kenobi has become very protective of the prisoner." Kit
said, grimacing slightly.
"Maul. His name is Maul. Say it. You can't catch the Dark Side from a name."
Sadé corrected him.
"Maul, then. - Kit caved in, rolling his eyes - You and Kenobi are getting
already quite attached to him." he noted sternly.
"Yes, I suppose we are. - Sadé admitted - I don't see any harm in this. We are
just giving him an anchor point to drag himself to the Light." she explained.
"And what if he is playing you all for fools? What if he is just using you all,
Sadé? Did you think about this?" Kit asked, anxiety colouring his words. There
was no anger left in him, only worry for her and for Obi-Wan. He doubted
because he cared for them, and he didn't want to see them hurt. She understood
that and even if it frustrated her to bits, she loved him even more for that.
"I think about this all the time, Kit." she confessed, hugging him even closer,
feeling the solidity of him through his robes.
Even if they argued, he was her anchor, like he had always been before, and he
would not leave her floundering, until they were forced to part ways once more.
"Every time I go to sleep, I find myself lying awake in bed and I think: what
if I am deceiving myself? What if I am only seeing what I want to see? - she
continued - I know it is a big risk, I know that it might all explode in our
faces, but what if its all real? I can't condemn that poor boy because I am too
afraid to trust him. I have to try. I have to hope. Otherwise, people like the
ones who made those horrible videos will always win." she concluded.
"I understand." Kit said, caressing her cheek with a gentle touch.
"Will you help me hope, Kit? Will you help us?" she asked, looking into his
black, black eyes.
"I will try, Sadé, but I won't let you get hurt because of the boy. I will help
you find the limit." he declared.
"And I will do the same for you. I won't let your worries consume you. We will
protect and balance each other, as we always did." she declared.
"Always... - Kit repeated with a sad smile - Some days I wish we could have had
always for real. Forever, like the heroes from a corny HoloNet movie." he
confessed.
Sadé felt her eyes sting with tears again and hid her face against his chest
once more.
"I do too. - she whispered - Like normal people. A life together, a cottage
somewhere by the sea, kids..." she added dreamily. They could have been happy
together, they could have watched each other's back, and dodged the temptations
of the Dark Side. They could have grown old and wise together.
"Every time I look at those two, I think that if we had children, they could
have been almost their age." she confessed, biting back tears.
Kit chuckled low and made her raise her head to look into his eyes. "Kenobi is
twenty-five. I would have needed to become a father at fifteen to manage." he
objected, trying to make her feel better.
"We could have made it, with a bit of misfortune." she retorted playfully.
She rose on her tiptoes and craned her neck to brush her lips against his chin.
Kit sighed and lowered his head. Their lips brushed against each other for a
moment, softly and gently.
"I wish you had stayed, Sadé. I miss you so much..." he confessed, cupping the
back of her head with one of his big, strong hands and capturing her lips in a
gentle kiss.
"I do too. - she whispered, as soon as they surfaced for air - But I would have
never managed to hide what I felt for you like something shameful any longer. I
didn't want them to censor it, and turn something so beautiful into something
dirty. It was the only way I could think of saving what had grown between us.
Of preventing it from festering in the darkness of secrets and lies. You agreed
with me."
"Yes, I did. - Kit admitted - It hurt though. It still does, deep down. To know
that I love you, and you love me, and yet we have to be apart."
"Yes, it does. Deep here. - she agreed, laying a hand on his chest, over the
strong beating of his heart - And yet the Force keeps making our paths cross
each other, and gifting us with moments of happiness. We should be grateful for
this. It's not a lot, but many people don't even have this much." she said,
trying to convince first of all herself, and to kill that little voice that
kept clamouring for more, for everything.
"They are perfect, while they last. So beautiful that it hurts, and yet
ephemeral, like the flowers of the cherry tree. I am happy to have them. To
have you, if only for fleeting moments in time." Kit declared.
"They will never die, here... - she said, touching her hand to her brow - or
here... - she added, touching her heart - They will always be beautiful.
Forever." she promised.
Kit nodded solemnly, and there were tears in his eyes.
"There is so much horror in this Galaxy, so much darkness. There should be some
beauty to balance it." he declared, bending low to kiss her deeply and
passionately.
Her hands flew to the fastenings of his robes almost of their own volition,
slowly untying them and revealing him to her.
Her own clothes followed the same route to the floor, and they finally stood
naked in front of each other once more. He looked beautiful to her, no,
perfect, like a dream made flesh, and she felt lucky and privileged for being
able to see him like that, to touch his smooth, soft skin and taste his lips
upon hers.
Kit gave her a long, loving and almost reverent look, and though she had never
really thought of herself as particularly attractive, his gaze made her feel
beautiful like a contender for Miss Outer Rim.
He lifted her in his arms, and carried her to the couch where she had crashed
countless times between shifts, laying her down gently and pressing himself
against her.
They made love to each other slowly and tenderly, as if it was a sacred rite by
which they were restoring each other and themselves, as if it was the first and
last embrace they would share and they had to make it last forever.
For that moment in time, they were as happy and complete as two beings have the
right to be.
Later that evening, Master Kit Fisto walked down the corridors of the Palace
complex towards the main hangar.
Ever since arriving on Naboo, or to be totally honest, after the news that a
Sith had been spotted in Theed and had nearly killed one of the members of the
Jedi Council, he had felt unbalanced, shaky and, he had to admit it, scared.
The Order was suddenly face with a menace of unprecedented magnitude, and many,
him included, felt unprepared to the task, and ashamed of their unpreparedness.
The knowledge that Sadé might have been in peril had been just the last straw
that had nearly sent him spiraling down an irrational, paranoid path.
The events of the afternoon had shaken him as well, down to the core, but it
had been a positive shake, and now he felt re-centered and calmer, more
balanced.
Now he realised that ever since he had arrived, he had acted out of fear, and
that his fear had obfuscated his clarity of judgement, and had made him deaf to
the voice of compassion.
He had been scared of losing Sadé for good, and, in order to protect her and
Padawan Kenobi, he had been ready to sacrifice the occasion to free a young man
from the corruption of the Dark Side. He still doubted that it could actually
be accomplished, but the Force had shown them an opening, and it would have
been folly to overlook it. At the very least, Kenobi would be able to gather
some information from the boy, so that they could maybe get a lead on the
Master. Only time could tell what the outcome of that risky endeavour would be.
Kit was certain of two things only, and the first one was that, if he had gone
on with his plan and clapped the boy in irons, they would have lost both a
possibility of converting him, and any intelligence whatsoever.
The Nautolan Jedi highly doubted that they would have managed to get anything
from him with coercion or intimidation. He could almost see the boy, Maul, look
at him with that defiant expression of his, as if telling them "do your worse,
I can take it.", and judging from what he had seen earlier, the Jedi Order's
worst had nothing on the stuff he had survived until then. By taking that
strong, intransigent position, he would have achieved nothing and he would have
ruined all of their chances to win this war before it even started.
And all of this because he had been too afraid to just trust the Force and his
companions, and too certain of his own convictions to actually seek the truth.
These were rookie mistakes and he felt absolutely mortified about them.
Luckily, Sadé, that stubborn, passionate and wise woman, had managed to prevent
him from causing any lasting damage, but from that moment onwards he needed to
exercise a tighter control on himself and examine the causes of his fears,
instead of giving in to them.
It was well and good for Master Windu to play the inflexible crusader, but that
was not him.
He could make the effort to trust, to a certain extent, especially if Sadé
asked that of him.
However, the only other thing he was certain about in that whole mess was that,
if the Sithling tried anything funny, especially against Sadé, he would make
sure he didn't attempt anything like that ever again.
He would be the voice of caution in that enterprise, reign in their enthusiasm
if necessary, but he would not try to row against the flow. If the Force was on
their side, it would steer their course to safety, as long as they followed it.
Young Kenobi was, as he had expected, with the kid Master Qui-Gon had picked up
on Tattooine, Anakin Something-or-other. They had commandeered a large open
space in the hangar, and, since training lightsabers were notoriously hard to
get by, the Padawan was teaching the kid the basics of sword-fighting with what
appeared to be mock-swords made of pieces of tubing.
Kit recognised the first sequence of Shii-Cho, which was one of the staples of
the curriculum of instruction delivered to Younglings. The kid wasn't doing too
bad, even if he couldn't have started his lessons more than a month before.
He considered watching Kenobi teach for a while, but he had not bothered with
shielding his presence until then, and the two turned towards him almost
immediately, interrupting their impromptu lesson.
A flash of irritation showed on Kenobi's face, maybe for the interruption, but
more probably because of their near-showdown in the corridor. The Padawan,
however, got his emotions under control almost immediately and painted a
peaceful, accepting expression on his face.
"Master Fisto. How can I help you?" he asked, tucking the makeshift saber in
his sash.
"Padawan Kenobi. Can I have a moment? There is something we need to discuss."
Kit said.
Kenobi gave him a quick considering glance, then nodded. "No problem, Master. -
he replied - Ani, do you mind?" he asked his pupil.
"Not at all. - Anakin declared, shaking his shaggy blond head - I'll try the
moves by myself while you two talk, is that alright?" he proposed.
"Perfect. - Kenobi approved - Remember the grip, it has to be gentle but firm,
and focus on controlling the movement. Speed will come later." he instructed.
The kid nodded enthusiastically. "Will do!" he exclaimed and took off to a
corner of the hangar, immediately setting out to perform the sequence over and
over again.
"He is a fast study." Kit commented, raising an eyebrow appreciatively.
"That he is. - Kenobi agreed - He is a natural for sword-fighting." he
commented with a proud smile, looking towards the kid with evident affection.
"I can see if I can have training sabers sent over from the Temple." Kit
proposed.
"Thank you for offering, but I am not sure it will be worth the effort. -
Kenobi said, turning his attention back towards the older Jedi - Hopefully, in
a week or so Maul will be able to travel to the Temple, and Ani will have
proper instruction." he explained.
"It doesn't seem like you are doing too bad as a teacher." Kit commented.
His words were received with a shrug. "I'm doing what I can between interning
as a nurse for Doc, and looking after Maul. - he replied, self-effacing -
Thankfully Ani has been grandfathered in the Royal Naboo Fleet cadet program,
so he is being kept busy. I worry that he would feel abandoned, otherwise." he
added. Concern was written all over his face as he turned towards the kid once
more.
"He seems happy." Kit said, feeling slightly guilty that he had not bothered to
check on him earlier.
"Lots of new experiences, lots of things to do. He is too busy to be unhappy. -
Kenobi explained - But I know he is worried that he will not be up to Temple
standards. And I know that he worries about his mother. She is still on
Tattooine, and still in slavery." he added.
At these words, Kit startled and turned sharply towards him. "Slavery? - he
asked, seeing the images of those slave children in the pit pass in front of
his eyes once more - He was a slave?" he asked as quietly as his anxiety
allowed him, discreetly pointing towards the kid.
Kenobi nodded.
"Was... was he..." Kit stammered, unable to finish the sentence, but Kenobi got
his meaning all the same.
"No. He wasn't, thankfully.- he replied, looking as nauseous as Kit felt - He
was lucky, and then became too valuable for his owner to risk him like that."
he explained.
There was a long moment of silence between them, as both tried to come to terms
with the things they knew.
"Sadé showed me... things..." Kit said eventually, breaking the silence.
Kenobi nodded but didn't say a word, waiting for him to continue.
"I believe what you told the Council now. - Kit added, shaking his head - This
is a case out of the ordinary. I see why you are doing what you are doing."
"And will you let me keep on doing it?" Kenobi asked, vaguely surprised.
Kit nodded. "As long as there are demonstrable results and everyone is safe. -
he conceded - And I want to talk to him." he added, cringing inwardly at how
much like a father vetting his child's significant others he was sounding.
"Now?!" Kenobi asked, alarmed.
"No, not necessarily now. - Kit replied, raising his hands in conciliation -
Preferably not now, in fact. I need some more time to be sure I can free myself
from my preconceptions and accept what is in front of us." he admitted.
"It is a big leap." Kenobi said, nodding to himself. He was evidently trying to
make him feel better about himself, even after they had quarreled so harshly.
"But you made it." he replied. It was a bit lame, but hopefully he would be
able to make amends for what he had said to him in a moment of anger. He had
tried to humiliate him, like a Sith would do. What the hell had he been
thinking at that time?
"It was a leap-or-die case. - Kenobi minimised with a shrug - I didn't really
have time to think about it. It just... happened. I don't regret a single
moment of it, though." he confessed.
Kit smiled at him. "I'm just here to make sure that you never have to. I am
here to help you, I just... - he broke off, shaking his head - I just made a
complete fool of myself earlier. " he admitted ruefully.
"What I mean to say, is that I still want to help you, if you will let me. - he
added after a brief pause - This is your and Doc's mission, I suppose, but if
there is anything I can do..."
"Of course we will! - Kenobi exclaimed - We need someone to be a bit more
critical and distant, because we are too emotionally involved to be totally
impartial. And you can help by providing an adult male figure for him to relate
to in a healthy way. Apparently it is very important..." he added cheerfully.
"I can try. I am not sure how I will perform as a surrogate father figure,
though." he half-joked, forcing a smile. That was the second time in the same
day! Maybe the Force was trying to tell him something.
"I'm sure you did well with Bant, Master. - Kenobi replied with a smile, a real
one, of his own - She loves you to bits."
Kit absorbed that validation in silence, allowing himself a moment of intense
satisfaction.
He loved Bant, and now that she had been knighted, he felt a little bit empty,
a little bit older. He had given all of himself to nurture that young, scared
girl after her original Master had been killed, to help her become the best
that she could be, and now he was not in any hurry to replace her.
He wasn't sure that he could build another, equally meaningful relationship
with another child, he wasn't sure he could prevent himself from comparing
them, and no child deserved to be second best in the eyes of their guardian.
The Force willing, the would not assign him another Padawan for a while, so
that he would have time to build some distance from that first experience and
act at the best of his capabilities when his time to mentor came again.
"You look tired." Kit said, changing subject.
"Do I?" Kenobi asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"Do you want me to help you with the Youngling?" Kit offered, ignoring it.
Kenobi hesitated, a worried look on his face.
"I am not saying you are doing a bad job of it. - Kit clarified, raising his
hands in defense - It's just that you are working shifts, and providing support
to your mate, and training a kid, all at the same time. Do you ever sleep at
all?" he asked.
"We sleep enough when we are dead." Kenobi joked, shrugging his shoulders.
"Come on, Kenobi. Let me help. - Kit insisted - The kid needs to get used to
another male adult figure, apart from you and Qui-Gon..." he added, echoing his
earlier words.
Kenobi burst out laughing, and the tired lines on his face almost disappeared,
making him look young, not much older than Anakin.
"Do you want to help me demonstrate some new moves to him?" he caved.
"Of course!" Kit replied, happy of being useful and finally in tune with his
fellow Jedi.
"Ani! Come here!" Kenobi called.
The kid stopped mid-sequence and trotted to their position. "Is everything
alright?" he asked, tilting his head in worry and perplexity.
"Yes, everything is fine. - Kenobi replied - Master Fisto is going to help me
show you the sequence in its entirety, so that you know what it is used for in
practice, alright?"
"Cool!" Anakin exclaimed, bouncing in place with excitation. He offered his
practice sword to Kit with a half-bow and shifted to the sidelines, sitting on
a crate and looking at the pair of them expectantly.
"The first sequence of Shii-Cho, then?" Kit asked, swinging his weapon
experimentally. They had done a good job of replicating the particular weight
and gyroscopic effects of a true lightsaber. It wasn't bad, as training
implements went.
Kenobi nodded in confirmation, sinking into a neutral guard position. "Ready
when you are." he announced.
Kit bowed in salute and positioned himself in a slightly more offensive guard.
They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Kit launched himself in
the opening move of the sequence, a high overhand chop. Kenobi executed a
flawless high parry and disengaged, swinging towards his unprotected flank. The
Nautolan turned his saber so that the tip pointed downwards and executed a low
block to the side, disengaging and turning his saber in an arc towards Kenobi's
left shoulder.
They went effortlessly through the whole sequence, flowing through blocks and
parries like water, and when they finished, bowing to each other in salute, the
kid clapped his hands in a short bout of applause.
"It was amazing!" he exclaimed.
"Master Fisto is one of the finest duelists of the Temple." Kenobi said,
shifting the glory upon him.
"You're not too bad yourself, young man." Kit replied, patting the Padawan on
the back.
"You are the Shii-Cho expert, though. I was merely following up." Kenobi
insisted.
"When we get to Ataru sequence one, I'll be floundering after you." Kit
retorted.
They could have gone on like that for a while, but luckily Anakin interrupted
them. "What is Ataru?" he asked.
"It is the fourth form of lightsaber combat. - Kenobi replied - Remember that I
told you that there are seven pure forms?" he asked.
"Yes. - the kid confirmed - So... Shii-Cho is the first, and Ataru is the
fourth... and what are the others?" he asked.
"Well, the second is Makashi, but almost no one uses it in its pure form
anymore." Kenobi explained, setting his training saber aside and sitting down
on a crate.
Kit followed his example, stretching his long legs in front of him. Making love
to Sadé had left him a certain lassitude that even the short bout of fighting
had not been able to disperse and he was glad for the respite.
"And why don't they?" Anakin inquired.
"Because it is good for one-on-one duels and not much more." Kenobi replied.
"Well, - Kit chimed in - if the Sith start resurfacing in numbers, it will
return to popularity quite quickly. Master Dooku will have a field day." he
argued.
"Oh, yes. He'll have a lot more people to criticise for their sloppiness and
lack of finesse." Kenobi agreed, grinning unabashedly.
"Who is Master Dooku?" Anakin asked, frowning slightly.
"Master Qui-Gon's old Master." Kit replied.
Anakin's eyes and mouth went very round in astonishment. "He must be ancient!"
the kid exclaimed.
Kit chortled. "He is quite old, yes, but still spry enough to get down on the
training floor and defeat people fifty years younger than him." he said.
"Wow! He must be really powerful, then." Anakin commented with evident
admiration.
"He is very strong in the Force." Kit confirmed. "Though not nearly as strong
as you, kid..." he thought. The kid was a real powerhouse, but seemed to be
unaware of the fact and Kit prayed that he remained so. Not many good things
came out of arrogance and pride.
The kid nodded, as if he understood what his remark had meant. "So, Shii-Cho,
Makashi... - he counted off on his fingers - What's next?" he asked.
"Soresu. Form three. - Kenobi replied - It is very focused on defense, and is
particularly useful against blasters. This is something I should study a bit
more in depth..." he added, pensively.
"Your mate got you scared?" Kit asked.
"You can bet on it. - Kenobi admitted - He took on both of us as if it was easy
and went around Master Qui-Gon's Ataru without trouble. I have realised that
pure Ataru leaves you too open to focused attacks. It requires the integration
of some defensively-focused techniques." he argued.
Kit nodded, agreeing with his assessment. "Pure techniques are often
unbalanced. - he added, mostly for the benefit of Anakin - Soresu is too
defensive, and leads to very prolonged, often inconclusive fights, and Ataru...
Well, you heard Padawan Kenobi." he concluded.
Anakin nodded again. "Are you allowed to pick-and-mix?" he asked.
"Yes, sure. Master Dooku doesn't like it, but most people do it to a certain
extent. - Kenobi replied - For example Shaak Ti does a wicked Makashi-Ataru
hybrid, which is quite aggressive, while her friend Luminara Unduli does mostly
Soresu with a bit of Shien, which is a lot more defensive."
"Mixing styles gives you more variety and flexibility, but one should focus on
few key styles, otherwise their fighting will lack coherence." Kit added.
"Makes sense." Anakin commented, scratching his chin pensively.
"Right. So, returning to your original question: form five has two styles, one
more offensive, Djem-So, and one more defensive, Shien. It is quite aggressive,
but a lot more balanced than Ataru." Kenobi resumed.
"That sounds like a good style to study. Will you teach it to me?" Anakin asked
eagerly, casting an intense glance at Kenobi.
"All in good time, Ani. - he chided gently - Shii-Cho first, to get the basics,
then we'll see. Maybe you'll decide that you like Shii-Cho well enough to stick
with it." he argued.
"We'll see. - the kid retorted, with a stubborn look in his eyes - What about
form six? Is it any good?" he asked.
Kit and the Padawan looked at each other for a moment, as if trying to decide
who would have to reply. Kit didn't really feel like slagging someone else's
style, but sure as hell he wouldn't really recommend form six to anyone.
"Niman is very defensive, even more than Soresu. - Kenobi replied, very
diplomatically - Some people find it quite inconclusive."
Anakin raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze between him and Kit. "Sounds
boring." he commented.
"It is very focused on subduing an enemy without lasting damage, in true
compassionate spirit." Kenobi tried to defend it.
"It will likely get you killed against a determined opponent. - Kit chimed in -
No one who is serious about combat does it in its pure form, but it has some
useful techniques, like the pushing slice."
"It's when you feint with your saber and then Force-push your opponent." Kenobi
clarified.
"Damned useful technique. - Kit assented - It's Agen Kolar's favourite move, as
well. If you ever fight with him, watch out for it, kid. He'll slam you into a
wall with it, and then kick the living daylights out of you."
"Are you allowed to kick, in lightsaber combat?!" Anakin asked, totally
flabbergasted.
"Kick, punch, headbutt, bite, whatever works. - Kit confirmed - Not many people
do it, though. Dooku would die before he touched someone, for example. Agen
kicks like a mule, instead." he added.
"It must be a Zabrak thing, because Maul does it too. Form seven Juyo and a lot
of teras käsi. It's scary. - Kenobi commented - There is something unnerving
about not knowing whether you're going to be sliced up, or kicked in the head,
or both." he added ruefully.
Kit laughed. "True. Maybe we should introduce them to each other." he joked.
"Oh yeah, they'll either be the best of friends or kill each other on the
spot." Kenobi agreed, laughing in turn, and even the kid snickered a bit.
It felt good to laugh with the two of them, to sit together companionably and
talk shop, trading anecdotes and advice, so that the Temple would no longer be
a totally nebulous place for the kid.
In a perfect Galaxy, Master Qui-Gon would be sitting in his place, narrating
tales of daring and wisdom, of his adventures on exotic planets, and of his
meditations on the ways of the Force.
He was but a poor replacement for him, but he would do his best. And so the
knowledge and the experience would pass from one generation of Jedi to the
next, like in any other tribe.
Kit wasn't too bothered of playing the grandfatherly role.
He just wished that Sadé was there with him. With her at his side, that moment
of kinship would transform into a perfect, bittersweet illusion of the family
they would never have.
***** Some Truths of Life *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     Warning: introspection and politics galore. Mentioned character
     deaths and violence.
     Spoilers for/references to: the novel Darth Maul:Lockdown, the short
     story Restraint, the novel Darth Plagueis and the Dark Horse comic
     Darth Maul.
     If you don't know some of the characters I mention in passing in this
     chapter, I suggest that you check on Wookieepedia.
     Those of you who have read my attempt at a fic entitled "the Rhani
     and the Khaghan" over at FF.net will already know it, but for those
     who have not:
     the character called Ghamdzan is none other than good old Grievous.
     I am not calling him with his usual name because my headcanon is that
     Grievous is just the translation in Basic of his Kaleesh name. I have
     rendered his true name with the Urdu word that means grievous.
     I am introducing the Huk Wars and the Kaleesh people for reasons that
     will become apparent during the course of the chapters (and because
     Grievous is an awesome character). The account of what happened
     during the wars is based on published Star Wars material (check the
     entry on Kalee on Wookieepedia), but since the exact how and when of
     the is a bit hazy, you're going to have to go with my interpretation
     of it, which has a lot to do with the Moroccan colonial wars and the
     war in Vietnam.
     Finally, thanks to all the folks who reviewed/commented and left
     kudos! You're the best.
     Flame all you want, I'm fireproof.
Between Obi-Wan and Doc, he didn't think he had been ever left completely alone
for more than fifteen, twenty minutes at a time since he arrived at the
hospital.
In what felt like another life, Maul would have been irked beyond measure by
their constant presence.
He would have felt trapped.
Now he felt safe.
His two self-appointed caretakers were not guarding against him, wary and ready
to strike if he did something they did not like, even if it would have been
sensible for them to do so.
They were just there for him, to make sure he was well and keep him company,
and he liked that.
Long days and even weeks on end of absolute solitude during his training had
convinced him that he didn't need people around him, that he didn't even like
the idea of being close to people, but it was a lie, like many of the "basic
facts of life" he had taken for granted only a month earlier.
He still didn't care for people in general, but Obi-Wan and Doc, and even the
Queen... he liked their company. He still marveled that they wanted to
sacrifice their time to stay with him, but he wouldn't want things to change.
This new-found need for company was a weakness he had realised he didn't want
to overcome.
However, he was grateful for the brief moment of solitude he was granted when
Obi-Wan went to train the kid, and Doc was for some reason late in coming.
There was much he needed to think about.
After the showdown with Master Fisto, and the things they had said to each
other, he and Obi-Wan had watched a bit of HoloNet, catching the tail end of a
free-running competition, then he had dozed off again, while Obi-Wan read his
book.
He didn't like the idea of falling asleep so often, but it was inevitable, as
far as he knew. Every time he was badly hurt after a battle, he would always
collapse and sleep his injuries off. This time, it had been much more serious
than any other injury he had ever received.
If he had not dodged in time, he would have died a quite spectacular death.
Even so, if Obi-Wan hadn't been there to help him in the tunnels, he would have
died all the same, a lingering, solitary death, abandoned by his Master...
No, better not think about it now, he told himself.
His mental shields were finally back up, after the fever, but they were still
soft and immature, like the cranium of a very small baby, and he didn't feel
like tempting fate by poking into his worst memories. He really didn't want to
re-live most of them. His three-week-long bad trip had been enough to last him
for a lifetime.
Sheer luck, instinct, and the maddeningly perplexing kindness of his nemesis-
turned-friend had kept him alive, and now he was out of the woods and healing
fast.
He was grateful about it, but sometimes he thought that dying in the tunnels
would have been much, much easier.
Everything had been easier before.
He had obeyed his Master without questions, killed people, and hated Jedi. He
had lived by the Sith code, and peace and compassion had been foreign concepts
to him, as well as doubt.
Peace is a lie... the code said.
Except that it was not, because he had felt it and it had felt ... good. Like
deep, dreamless sleep and safety.
It had given him a different kind of strength to help him heal, but it was as
real as any passion he had ever felt.
There were both peace and passion. Maybe it had always been so.
Maybe it was supposed to be so for everyone...
He knew he was not supposed to entertain this kind of idle musings, but it was
not a thought that would let itself be shoved in a corner and forgotten.
It was the kind of thought that stuck to your mind and didn't let go until you
had thought it to the end, and then...
And then there was doubt.
It was all the little Padawan's fault.
Obi-Wan of the bright blue eyes and calm voice, who was not little and
shouldn't have been a Padawan any longer, except that he had given up his
chance at investiture for him.
To help him.
He had given him peace, and mercy and compassion, treated him like an equal,
even if he had proven himself superior by defeating him.
Maul shook his head.
Nothing made sense.
It did not make sense that the Obi-Wan had done everything he could to save
him, even when he still thought that he had killed his beloved Master.
It made even less sense that he had saved the Obi-Wan down in the tunnels.
He could lie to himself and think that he had done it because he knew that the
Padawan was his only chance of getting out alive from the tunnels, that he was
trying to exploit his goodwill, but it would not make it true.
Maul did not fully understand why he had saved the Jedi, only that, at the
moment, he had felt that it was the right thing to do, even if he would suffer
from it. He had felt like there was nothing else he could have done, like he
couldn't have chosen to let him die even if he had wanted it. It had been like
an automatic, instinctive response, that came from something deeper than
reason.
There must really be some fundamental flaw in him, that made him think and feel
things that he should not, that made him doubt, that made him less of a Sith
than he should have been.
It had been much more evident when he was a child, but, as he trained and grew
stronger, he had managed to shove it in the background and forget about it at
times, even for months on end, but it never totally disappeared.
It was no surprise that his Master was almost perennially disappointed with
him.
It must have been his flaw that had made him rescue Obi-Wan because he had
helped him; that had made him obedient and loyal to his Master for long years
in spite of the Sith traditions.
He had always known that he should be plotting against the older Sith, dreaming
of his downfall and death, but he did not. He could not, actually. His Master
used to be the only thing he had, his only anchor. Betrayal had seemed to him
something of inconceivable magntiude, and that flawed part of him also told him
that it would have been wrong.
This weakness had nearly cost him his life, it had nearly made him fail his
Master's final test. The only way his Master had found of making him want to
kill him, even only for an instant, had been to tell him that he had been
replaced and would be discarded.
That had hurt more than everything his Master, or anyone else, had ever done to
him, but by now it must have really happened, since he had failed his mission
and had been abandoned to die, Maul told himself.
Deep inside, he had known for a while that he had only been a stand-in for
someone else, that he was a tool that would be put aside as soon as some other
tool would be better suited to his Master's needs.
He had been alright with it, he had thought that it was the way of things, that
loyalty was never due to one's inferiors, and that the only way he had to keep
his place was to fight harder and make himself as useful as he could be.
"The weak have to accept whatever the powerful dish them, this is the way the
world goes." he had always told himself.
It had only been the flawed part of him that had always protested, that had
always told him that there must be more to life than being used until he
couldn't give anymore, and then being thrown away.
And now he knew that there was. Obi-Wan had shown it to him.
Peace, mercy, comfort... All things he had been trained to think as weaknesses.
Only now he realised that one needed to be strong to give strength to someone
else. It was not something easy or convenient.
The wisdom of doing something like that looked still questionable to him, but
it was not something a weakling could do, at least not the way Obi-Wan had done
with him.
How impossibly strong in the Force did the Padawan have to be to keep him alive
and sane for three whole weeks by merging his Force with Maul's own?
And why hadn't he pressed the advantage by rifling through his open and
defenseless mind and finding out whatever inadequately little he knew about his
Master and his plans, while he couldn't resist him?
Maul had a very vague idea of what had happened during that time, but he knew
he had not been invaded and plundered.
Obi-Wan had first limited himself to listening without judgement to what his
fevered mind was transmitting, and to broadcasting images of his own, to calm,
to soothe, and then...
And then all the barriers had fallen down and he had been in Obi-Wan's mind as
much as he had been in his. What he had dreamed, the Padawan had dreamed, what
the Padawan had felt, he had also felt.
Now Obi-Wan knew most, if not all, of his fears and his shame, but had never
tried to exploit them, and he knew Obi-Wan's own.
If he had been a true Sith, he would have used them as a weapon against him, he
would have poisoned his mind, broken him, made him go insane.
He should have, his Master would have expected nothing less from him, but he
could not.
It would have been wrong in a way he could not even begin to express.
He could not repay friendship with hate, or trust with betrayal.
Maul knew that without his help, without the Obi-Wan shoring him up, he might
have not survived the fever, or if he had, his sanity might have been lost.
For days he had asked himself: what did Obi-Wan want in exchange? He had been
telling himself that the little Padawan couldn't have saved him without wanting
anything in return, that it was impossible. He should have been his hated
enemy, he was not a battle buddy or a prized servant, in whose survival he
might have a vested interest. His life should not have meant anything to the
Padawan.
And yet it did.
And yet Obi-Wan had risked everything for him all over again, right that
afternoon, to spare him whatever little suffering and humiliation Master Fisto
would have been able to inflict him.
And yet he had said that he cared for him, that he believed in him...
It was so confusing!
He wished he had never met Obi-Wan, that he had never talked to him like an
equal, never joked with him, never known what his mind felt like against his...
...sunshine and laughter and warmth, like a bright summer day, and he couldn't
stop thinking about it, and he wasn't supposed to want any of this, but it had
felt good, better than flying a speeder so fast that the world blurred, better
than fighting, better than killing, better than anything he had ever felt
before, and he knew it was wrong, and weak, and a betrayal of everything he was
supposed to be, but he wanted to curl up and bask in in like a cat in the sun,
and he couldn't stop wanting it...
The Lightsiders spoke continuously of the seduction of the Dark Side, but at
least some aspects of the Light Side seemed awfully enticing to him. The
warmth, the feeling of not being alone anymore...
They were alluring, addictive. They called to him, to whatever shard of Light
was left in him, and it responded eagerly, as if it had waited forever for that
call.
A true Sith would have never fallen for such a temptation.
But he was not a true Sith, he had never been.
He had been trained in defiance of the Rule of Two, incompletely and for the
single purpose of fighting his Master's battles, and killing his Master's
enemies. Even if his Master had declared him a Sith Lord, he had never been
anything but a servant, named after his function, untrained in the secret arts
of the Dark Side, and unknowing about whatever Grand Plan his Master and the
other Sith had concocted.
His Master... Darth Sidious had lied to him. He had never been destined to
greatness, but only to an early, violent death.
The realisation, down in the tunnels, had hollowed his soul with desperation
and betrayal, but now he was glad about it.
He was not a Sith.
He could have peace, he could have equals. He could have people who cared for
him and care for them in return. He could have normalcy and doubt, like the
Queen had said.
Like Komari, the Bando Gora leader who had sprung him out of Cog Hive 7, he was
neither Sith nor Jedi.
He was bound to no rules, but could make his own decisions. He could figure out
what he really wanted from his life and try to achieve it.
Obi-Wan often said that he wasn't just a tool, that he could be much more than
what his Master had wanted him to be. The Padawan believed that he could do
whatever he put his mind to, even leave the Dark Side behind and forge a new
path for himself, and he wanted to try, he wanted to grasp that bright future
that was just out of reach.
He wanted to take the leap.
The idea of leaving everything behind and throwing his lot in with the Light
Side scared him, but, then again, there was nowhere else he could go. He had
learned more about the Force and himself during his stay on Naboo than in his
twenty-odd years of life, but he had still failed his mission, and Sidious
didn't appreciate failure. Not that it really mattered, because even assuming
that Sidious would be willing and ready to take him back, he wouldn't want to
go back to that travesty of a life, not now that he knew that it was all a lie.
There was no way back for him, only forward.
He could deal with fear, he told himself, he would overcome it step by step as
he adjusted to the new situation, learned the rules or even made them up as he
went.
He would find a way to prove Obi-Wan and Doc and the rest that he was worthy of
their care, so that they would not want to leave him behind...
No, he should not even think about that possibility. It would not happen. He
would work hard to ensure that it did not.
He could do that. He could find a way to live within the Light, to make the
people who cared about him forget his flaws and his sins.
He would make himself useful, scrape every little detail he had gathered about
the Sith's plans out of his memory, and hand them over to the Lightsiders,
hoping that it would be enough.
Betrayal would be repaid with betrayal, and Sidious would rue the day he had
decided to ruin his life and turn him into a broken tool.
He had to be strong in his resolve and ignore that nagging self-doubt that told
him that no one could be so generous to truly take him in and keep him.
He had to cling to the hope in Obi-Wan's words and plough on.
If he faltered now, he would only let the old man win, and that was a
satisfaction he didn't want to give him.
When Doc finally arrived, he was still meditating, trying to calm himself down
to little or no avail.
Until recently, he used to ponder on the Sith Code, repeating it like a mantra
to help himself focus, but this time it didn't seem appropriate, and he had
ended up reflecting on the co-existence of peace and passion, instead. There
had to be a way of reconciling the opposites and still be able to use the
Force.
He had grown to appreciate peace, and realised the usefulness of being able to
calm down and center oneself, to free oneself from fear and anger and see
things more clearly, but he didn't think he could leave passion behind
completely.
The Jedi might not like it, but there were good kinds of strife, like the
desire to better oneself and become the best that one could be, and good kinds
of passion, like friendship, like caring for people.
As he was starting to see it, caring for someone was both a weakness and a
strength. It led people to do weird, irrational things, but it also empowered
them to perform grandious feats and face certain death without fear.
He had cared for Sidious, wasted his loyalty on him for too long, in the
unfounded hope that he cared for him in return at least a little, in his own
peculiar way, but it was not true. Sidious cared for no one but himself.
If that selfishness was the ultimate freedom promised by the Dark Side, well,
then he didn't want it. It was hollow and lonely and pointless, like being king
of a desert, or the last man left in the Galaxy...
"Are you alright, my boy?" Doc asked quietly.
Maul opened his eyes and found her hovering near the bed. Her eyes were red and
swollen, as if she had cried, but her Force-signature, though feeble, was calm
and smooth like a pond.
How did she get so close to him without him noticing? He must have been very
deep in thought.
He took a deep breath and stomped hard on his need to lash out at her to make
her retreat to a safer distance. Doc was not a threat, he told himself.
"I am fine, madam. Why do you ask?" he managed to reply, a bit stiffly but
politely enough.
Doc shrugged. "You were frowning quite a lot. You looked upset." she explained.
"I was meditating." he retorted.
Doc's worried expression lightened in an almost impish one.
"From what I remember, meditation is not supposed to make you frown..." she
commented cheerfully.
"I was reflecting on the possibility of balancing peace and passion." he
confessed, feeling oddly shy about it.
"And what do you think about it?" she asked, looking genuinely interested.
Maul shrugged, noting with satisfaction that the movement didn't hurt
significantly anymore.
"I hope it can be done." he replied, cutting the explanation short. He felt
silly at the mere idea of telling her the rest of his musings. It wasn't the
right time yet. Maybe another day, when he was more convinced of them himself.
"And you, madam? Ever thought about it?" he asked, unwilling to let the
conversation fall to the wayside. Despite what he had said to Obi-Wan earlier
in the afternoon, he had already had far too much silent reflection for one day
and he was curious about her opinion. Doc wasn't a full Jedi, but she had
trained with them, and she was the only point of reference he had about the
normal world. Her opinion should be a good sanity check for his conclusions.
"Ah, my boy, that is a constant thought for many of us." she replied
noncommittally.
"And what did you conclude?" he insisted.
Doc smiled sadly. "I think it is possible. The first Jedi Code did say:
"Emotion, and yet peace" after all. - she replied - The trick is in finding the
balance. Some days it feels easier, some others it's very hard." she added,
busying herself with one of the monitors.
"You see, on top of being a bit Forceful, I am a medical doctor, and I need to
balance between caring personally for my patients and being able to take
rational decisions about their care. - she explained - It is never easy, but it
is necessary."
Maul nodded in silence. It all made sense to him so far.
"Some days it just feels as if the Force hates you and relishes the idea of
sticking you in a tight spot. - she continued, checking some more readouts -
For example, last month, before you arrived, I had a very stressful patient. It
was a delicate case and I had to make some tough decisions, and..." she trailed
off.
Maul waited for the rest of the explanation, but Doc just shook her head.
"Sorry, my lad. I shouldn't be bothering you with this morbid stuff." she
concluded apologetically.
"You are not bothering me. - Maul objected - Please, tell me. I want to know."
he said, deciding that he could sacrifice his pride for once. He needed to
learn how real people managed to find balance in their lives.
Doc gave him a considering look, but hesitated again.
"Please. - he repeated - Help me understand." he pleaded.
Doc smiled and patted his hand gently. It was the first time she touched him
outside medical procedures. It wasn't too bad.
"Alright. - she acceded - So, most people take up medicine because they want to
help people. They want to save them, right?" she started.
Maul nodded. "Of course." he commented.
"Good. The problem is that you cannot always save everyone. - Doc continued -
In some cases, you have to realise that there is nothing you can do for your
patients, except ease their passing. No matter how good a doctor you are, you
have to accept the possibility of losing some of the people under your care."
she concluded wistfully.
"Did you lose many?" Maul asked quietly.
"I did lose my share. It never gets easier." she replied, shrugging her
shoulders.
Maul thought back to what happened on Cog Hive 7, to when he had thought that
Eogan had been killed by the charge implanted in his heart. He couldn't really
say that he had cared deeply about the kid, but he had been under his
protection, and he had felt a deep sense of injustice and frustration when he
saw him fall, and a deep relief when he realised it had all been a ruse. Maybe
he had cared for the kid, after all.
"I understand. - Maul replied, his voice tinged with bitterness - To care is to
open oneself to the possibility of loss and pain."
Doc nodded and smiled sadly. "True, but also to the possibility of joy beyond
comparison." she retorted.
Maul held her gaze for a moment, feeling a question burning on his tongue.
"Were you ever in love?" he asked finally, regretting the question as soon as
he had uttered it.
"Sorry, you don't have to answer this. It's obviously not my business." he
hastened to add, looking away from her.
"It's alright, my lad. There is nothing wrong with this question. - she replied
instead - And yes, I have been for a long, long time." she added.
"And how is it?" he asked again.
Doc smiled and patted his hand again. "Hard, and scary, but beautiful. The most
amazing thing one can experience in one's life." she replied.
"They say that love leads to the Dark Side. - Maul objected - But you are
not... There is hardly any Dark in you."
Doc smiled. "That's good to know. - she commented cheerfully - But returning to
your question, I don't think that love is the problem. I think it is what comes
with it." she explained.
"And what's that?" Maul insisted.
"Jealousy, obsession, the desire to control, and trap, and own the person that
you are in a relationship with. - she replied - It is easy to say "I love you",
but without respect and trust, love is just a word. You have to be strong
enough to accept that it might not last forever and that things might not
always go the way you want."
"I... I see." Maul replied, unconvinced and slightly dejected. He didn't think
he would be any good at letting people go. He was too selfish for that. Love...
It was clearly something he would never have any part in anyway. It was already
too much to ask that someone would care for him. He didn't even know why he had
asked.
Doc's warm, slightly rough hand brushed softly against his cheek, startling him
out of his funk.
"It sounds so very hard, but actually, it is not. - she said gently, looking
into his eyes - All over the Galaxy, billions and billions of people are in
love with someone. Maybe it is not love at first sight and then forever and
ever, maybe they mess it up, quarrel and break up, but only a minority of
people let their relationship become so twisted that they turn Dark out of it.
In the grand scheme of things, love is a positive force. It just needs balance,
like all things." she concluded, withdrawing her hand.
"You make it sound as if life is like walking on a tightrope." Maul commented,
feeling his cheek tingle pleasantly where she had touched him. It had felt
comforting, almost as much as when Obi-Wan did that.
"That's a very good analogy, actually! - Doc declared, laughing quietly - But
enough brooding! We have been maudlin enough for the evening, I think." She
pulled the examination tray closer to the bed and pulled on a pair of sterile
gloves.
"Right. The latest readings say the infection is resolved and the toxin has
been eliminated. - she announced - It seems that congratulations are in order.
You are officially out of the woods." she added triumphantly.
"Did you have any doubts I'd be?" Maul asked quirking an eyebrow in mock
offense.
"Actually, for the first week or so, yes." she replied, dead serious.
"But it's all in the past, now. - she added, a smile back on her face, when he
looked at her in slightly alarmed surprise - In a few weeks you'll be ready to
perform crazy stunts once more. That said, I'd like have a look at the state of
things down there, if you don't mind." she proposed, pointing her hand towards
his midriff.
Maul froze in embarrassment. Rationally he knew that Doc and possibly Obi-Wan
must have been changing his bandages and performing other medical procedures on
him while he was KO, but now that he was awake, he couldn't get past the
thought that he was totally naked under the bedsheets. It was bad enough that
everyone was seeing his bare chest and arms, but the rest... it was totally
awkward, he thought, feeling his cheeks grow hot. Thankfully, he couldn't get
much redder than he already was.
"Hey, I'm a medical doctor. There is nothing down there that I haven't seen ad
nauseam, and in all possible shapes and colours..." she teased good-naturedly.
"I know, but..." he retorted, trying to prevent himself from stammering.
"We can wait for Obi-Wan if you'd rather have someone male look after you..."
Doc suggested, with a wicked glint in her eyes.
At those words, Maul thought his face would burst in flames and the blasted
heartbeat monitor started bleeping faster as his heart-rate picked up crazily.
He didn't exactly know why he found that notion so embarrassing, but he
definitely didn't think it was a good idea.
"N-no. - he stammered - I'd rather have this sorted out sooner than later." he
explained, and it was only a partial lie.
Doc smiled knowingly but didn't say anything and set to work, carefully
snipping the old bandages.
Maul closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing pattern, trying to
pretend that he wasn't there.
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Doc reassured him, but it was not pain he
was worried about. It was the intimacy of having someone touch him and care for
him.
He liked it, but didn't know how to deal with it.
Maul was going to reply, but Doc made a surprised sound and a shiver of alarm
went through him.
"Bad news?" he asked.
"Upon the contrary. - Doc retorted, shaking her head with a twinkle of earrings
- You are healing a lot faster than I expected you to. It's very positive." she
added.
He risked a look down. Actually, it looked better than he had expected, not at
all like he had been gutted only about a month before.
"I heal fast. Always did. It's a gift." he said with a small shrug, looking
back at the doctor.
"Honed with long years of practice, eh?" she commented, and there was a knowing
weight to her gaze.
"Pretty much." he admitted flippantly. How much did she know about his past
exploits? She couldn't know that much, otherwise she would be keeping her
distance, instead of helping him.
"Uhmm... - Doc said, unaware of his musings - I wasn't planning on it yet, but
it might be an idea to see if you can handle a liquid diet. The sooner the
better, really. You've been relying on IV nutrition for long enough." she
declared, deftly replacing the bandages.
"Liquid diet?" Maul repeated.
Doc nodded. "Like a milk shake, but with all the nutrients required from a full
meal. - she explained - How would you like that?" she asked.
"It would be most appreciated, madam." he replied enthusiastically. It felt
like a step towards getting out of that bloody bed.
"Thought so. - Doc commented, grinning widely - I'll grab one for you. Any
preferences about the flavour?"
Maul nearly laughed at the question and at how alien it sounded. He was still
supposed to be a prisoner, not a guest, and prisoners didn't get to choose, but
he could see that Doc meant what she had said and there was no point in
offending her by being sarcastic.
"Anything will be fine, thank you." he declared.
"I'll get you a sprout-flavoured one then." she provoked.
"Well, maybe not that one. - Maul replied, chuckling quietly - I'm pretty sure
it would be forbidden under the Sentient Rights Convention. "
"Then choose. - Doc insisted, setting her hands on her hips - You must have
some kind of preference."
Maul frowned. What was the point in that question? He had always eaten whatever
was available, the bland spaceship food Sidious had provided for him, or
whatever he could find during a mission. Whatever would keep him going would
do.
What was the matter with preferences? Did Doc expect him to have any? Was he
supposed to?
Would she really get upset if he didn't?
It sounded likely.
Damn. He needed to think something fast to pass muster.
"Hey, there is no need to get all worked up. - Doc declared softly, evidently
realising his inability to come up with a reply - You really don't have one, I
get it." she added.
How wonderful, he thought with dejection, he had just found yet another way of
disappointing his caretakers.
"It's alright... I understand." Doc said warmly. Instead of disappointment,
there was a strange sadness in her eyes, but he couldn't understand why.
"I'll get you one I like, and then you'll tell me if you like it, alright?" she
proposed, disappearing out of the door.
Doc reappeared a handful of minutes later, carrying what looked like a big
canteen glass of pinkish milk-shake, complete with a bendy straw, and a mug of
pungent smelling caf.
"Looma fruit and vanilla. My favourite." Doc declared, handing him the shake.
Maul sniffed it rather suspiciously. It smelled nice, though, and the cup was
pleasantly cool to the touch.
"Thank you." he said with a slight inclination of the head.
Doc smiled. "You are most welcome, my lad. - she declared - Tuck in, then. Just
let me know if you experience any discomfort." she instructed.
"Will do." Maul retorted. He carefully bent the straw and took a first, small
sip. The shake was cool and refreshing, its texture was smooth and creamy and
it tasted sweet and aromatic, reminding him of something he had pushed at the
back of his mind for a long time.
"It tastes like ice-cream." he whispered, a bittersweet feeling invading him
for a moment.
"It does, yes. - Doc agreed cheerfully - Somehow you didn't strike me as an
ice-cream fan, though." she commented.
A flash of a memory passed through Maul's thoughts, the smile on a girl's
green-skinned face. For some reason, that image angered and saddened him beyond
measure.
"I only had it once." he replied, trying to concentrate on Doc's face and away
from what looked like an impending flashback. Slowly, the memories, whatever
they were about, faded away to where they had come from.
"Did you like it?" Doc asked, frowning slightly in worry.
"Yes, I think I did." Maul replied, knowing it to be so, even if he didn't
quite remember the circumstances.
"Is everything alright? - Doc asked - Are you in pain?"
Maul looked at her without quite seeing her for a moment. He was not in any
physical pain, but something wasn't quite right, even if he didn't really know
what.
"I'm fine." he lied. He was not going to admit weakness over something as
trivial as a glorified milkshake.
Doc considered him doubtfully but didn't call on his ruse.
"Do you mind if I sit here for a while? - she asked instead, pointing at the
chair - It's been a long day."
"Yes. Or rather, no. Please, sit down, madam. - Maul replied clumsily, still
trying to sort out his feelings - I appreciate your company." he confessed.
Doc smiled warmly and lowered herself onto the chair, sipping her coffee. Maul
concentrated on her warm presence next to him and whatever was happening to him
ceased, at least for the moment.
"Thank the Force for people who care..." he thought to himself.
They ended up watching Theed United getting destroyed at bolo-ball by Sundari
Rangers on the Mandalorians' home pitch. Maul had watched his share of matches
in his life, or at least he thought so, but he had never been a real fan. Doc
instead, was a loyal supported of Theed United, even though they were a rather
weak team.
"Ah, we're due for relegation once more, I reckon. - she commented dejectedly
at the end - And we had just been promoted to First Division! Damn!" she
exclaimed.
"Sundari Rangers is a really good team..." Maul commented, feeling like he
should try to console her.
"And Theed United is a very crappy one." Doc concluded for him.
"Then why do you support them?" he asked.
"Because they are my team. - she replied, rather indignant - And you don't stop
supporting your team just because they lose. It's a matter of loyalty."
Maul stared at her in perplexity for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose it
is." he conceded.
"You don't support any team, do you?" Doc asked.
"I'm not much of a watcher. I'm more of a doer." Maul replied.
"I could have bet on it and won. - she commented with a chuckle - You look like
a sport nut. Did you play bolo much?"
"Not really. I'm more into martial arts, with a bit of free-running and
climbing on the side." Maul explained.
"That sounds more like training than like having fun." Doc commented.
"It's both, actually." he retorted.
Doc sighed and stood up, stretching her back and yawning.
"It's time for my evening round of visits, already... - she said - I have to go
now, and I think Obi-Wan is still with Ani. Do you want me to comm him?" she
offered.
Maul considered the offer for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm sure
he'll be here soon. I won't begrudge the kid his training. - he objected - I'll
be fine. Most likely, I'll be out like a light in a few."he added. He didn't
want her to worry too much. He could handle himself now. He wasn't that needy.
It took a few more reassurances before Doc finally left.
Contrary to what he had said to her, however, he had no intention of sleeping
for the moment, not until Obi-Wan arrived. He could feel the wrongness that he
had experienced before lurking under the surface, and wanted the reassurance of
his physical presence before he was ready to give in to sleep. He would have to
bide his time.
After the match, the sports channel started transmitting an endurance running
event. Few things would be less exciting to watch.
Maul switched channel and ended up on a Rodian soap opera, where the male lead
had just discovered that the woman he was having a relationship with was in
fact his long-lost twin sister.
The Zabrak shook his head and changed channel again, and again, and then some
more.
He wasn't usually allowed frivolities such as watching HoloNet video channels,
but he was starting to think that he hadn't actually missed much. Most of the
stuff on air was boring, frivolous, pointless, terribly vulgar or a combination
of the above.
In the end, he left the video on a news channel, where a panel of news
analysts, led by a not-unattractive female Togruta anchor, were discussing
recent news items.
Mostly, they seemed to be arguing pointlessly between themselves, their raised
voices mixing into an annoying buzz.
Soon Maul found his attention slipping away, and had to force himself to keep
his eyes open more and more frequently.
At a certain point, when he resurfaced from a micro-nap, the program was
showing edited footage from the funeral of some top brass banker.
A sugary female voice-over described the sumptuous but tasteful service, and
droned on about the famous guests that had attended it, and about how the newly
elected Chancellor himself had appeared and made a very poignant speech in
remembrance of the man.
"And guess who is going to pander to the corporate banking's agenda?..." Maul
thought bitterly, switching off for a moment. If politicians were so close
chums with the bankers, they could hardly prevent corruption and speculation.
When he refocused on the video, the anchor had already moved on to talk about
the legacy of the late banker (of which, between one near-blackout and the next
he had not yet caught the name), and about how his successors would have to
deal without him.
"Well, Jenny, - one of the news analysts, a tall-headed Cerean, argued - San
Hill is already trying to project an air of aggressiveness and force, to offset
the perceived weakness of the IGBC on the stock market. We don't need to look
any further than the appointment of the new head of the Security and
Collections division, even though rumor has it that the move was already being
planned by his mentor..."
"Thanks for bringing this issue up, Kunnar. - the anchor said, her sweet smile
showing rather sharp teeth - I have to stop you on this thought, because our
production team has put together a nice little profile on the latest addition
to the IGBC's organigram, and I think we need to see it before we can discuss
this further..." she announced.
The studio faded out and another clip faded in, accompanied by some subtly
eerie background music. It's was the funeral, again, but this time the camera
slowly zoomed in on a single person standing alone to one side of the hall
where the service had been held. The target was a tall, broad-shouldered man
clad in a green-ish military uniform. He carried two swords at his waist and a
rifle slung around his back and he was very obviously non-human. His skin was a
dark shade of blood-red and scaly, while his face was covered with a bone-white
mask, streaked with red over the eyes and on the cheeks, as if the man had been
crying tears of blood. From the mask emerged only an impressive set of tusks
and a pair of angry, slit-pupil, golden eyes.
The man seemed to have caught on the fact that someone was spying on him, and
turned towards the camera with a venomous glare. The clip stilled on that
frame, freezing the man in his anger.
"This charming individual is the newly appointed Head of Security of the IGBC.
- the voice-over said calmly - His name is Ghamdzhan, khaghan, or supreme
warleader, of Kalee, an underdeveloped, backwater planet deep in the Wild
Space."
The clip transitioned to the image of a green-blue planet, then to the dusty,
empty roads of a ruined town made of mud-brick and wood. Something that looked
like a cross between a dog and a lizard ambled down the empty streets, so thin
that Maul could count its ribs through the skin.
An alien woman emerged from one of the houses, and started yelling at the
camera-people, waving a knobbly fist in the air, then a few other angry and
half-starved people emerged from the ruins, and a few half-naked children
started to throw stones and pieces of brick at the troupe.
"For his people, this man is a hero, a demigod, even. - the voice-over
continued - For the Republic and the Jedi Order, though, he is a savage,
ruthless mass-murderer." it added, and the image switched to a grainy grey-
scale still taken from some sort of security camera footage.
In it, Ghamdzhan was busy cutting a humanoid mercenary down to size with his
two wickedly curved swords, his mask and light-coloured clothes spattered with
blood all over, and a grin on his masked face. He looked like he was having the
time of his life.
Maul understood the feeling. There were few things sweeter in life than
defeating one's enemies.
After that, the clip showed a rather pretty human woman in a military uniform
sporting the logo of a relatively big and well-known mercenary company.
The HUD identified her as a "peace corps volunteer", though.
"Right... - Maul thought - And I am the queen of Alderaan..."
"We landed on Tovarskl at the beginning of the operation... - she whispered,
doing a good impression of being shell-shocked - The Bone-Faces attacked us at
night, while we were at the base camp. They blew down the perimeter wall and
came in with mounted troops... They set everything on fire... And then started
picking out everyone that tried to escape the inferno. They were everywhere...
I lost many friends that night." she narrated.
The clip transitioned to another interviewee, a middle-aged, dark-skinned human
man in a cream-coloured robe. The HUD labelled him as Jedi Master T'chooka
D'oon. Maul frowned, surprised that a Jedi would lower himself to supporting
such a blatant piece of propaganda.
"When we landed on Tovarskl, there was not a single Yam'rii left alive in the
entire colony. - he declared sternly - The Kaleesh had massacred them all.
There were hundred of empty husks piled up in pyramids, and most buildings had
been destroyed. It was a wasteland. And it was the same on Oben and on the
other Yam'rii colonies in the system."
There was a short pause, then another piece of the same interview was edited
in.
"Their leader... Ghamdzhan... He is a demon made flesh. - T'chooka D'oon
declared, shaking his head - He is ruthless. There is no trick he would not use
to win. IEDs, snipers, ambushes... Nothing is too dishonorable." he added.
"Well, what did you expect, old man? That he would send you a written
invitation before busting your arse?" Maul thought, frowning and shaking his
head.
The pompous fool! War was not about being nice. It was about winning.
The images switched back to the distraught merc.
"He was in the thick of it, with those swords... We had never faced anything
like that. - she said, sounding panicky - It looked like there was nothing we
could do to stop him. He cut down my best friend like he was swatting a fly...
And he laughed while he did it. He laughed..." she added, turning her teary
eyes towards the camera.
"And there you go... - Maul told himself - Operation goodwill has been a
success... All the human Coreworlders will be on the pretty merc's side without
asking any more questions." he thought bitterly. It was an easy win, with the
Kaleesh looking like giant lizards from Hell.
He wondered if the producers from the news channels had taken lessons in
manipulation from Sidious. He was sure the old man would approve.
Finally the clip wound to its emotionally-charged end, and the studio faded
back in once more.
"So, ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have a contender for Creepiest Guy
of the Month, besides that Zabrak mercenary sighted on Naboo." the anchor
started.
Maul blinked in surprise. Were they talking about him on the 'Net? Thankfully
the fact that he had been a Sith, or nearly so, seemed to have escaped the
public notice.
"Coronel Kwigat, do you think the IGBC did well to hire an individual with this
background?" she asked.
One of the men around the table, a human identified as a strategy and military
analyst, cleared his throat and started talking.
"I think they did, yes. - he replied confidently - What your profile failed to
show is that Ghamdzhan is no ordinary butcher. He is an extremely efficient and
successful butcher." he argued.
One of the other speakers tried to protest, but the anchor stopped him.
"Interesting point." she said.
The strategist smiled smugly and nodded in thanks. "Thank you Jenny. What I
mean is that, yes, the Kaleesh eventually had to retreat to their home planet
and lost the colonies, but it was already a bit of a miracle that they had
conquered them at all. - he declared - The Kaleesh have no capital ships, no
droids and hardly any blasters. They conquered the colony worlds from a more
technologically advanced, and far more wealthy, race using only re-purposed
freighters and shuttles, swords, spears and slug-throwers, and they
successfully stood their ground against the Republican troops during land
operations! The task force had to dislodge them from the colonies by carpet
bombing." he added enthusiastically.
"Oh dear... - Maul thought - That must have hurt."
He was starting to like Mr Bone-Face and his folks. He had always had a thing
for brave people.
"So you are one of their supporters?" the anchor asked, lips curling in slight
disgust.
"No, of course I don't condone their gratuitous aggression to a peaceful
neighbor. - he replied with an unctuous smile - But from a tactical point of
view... Yes, I do admire them. That Ghamdzhan, he is a tactical genius. And
he's got a great intimidation factor. It would be hard to miss why San Hill
wanted so badly to hire him."
"I suppose no one will try to default on their debts, from now onwards..." the
anchor trilled.
"It would be very unwise, Jenny." the man agreed, winking at the anchor.
The other man, who had been trying to butt in ever since the strategist had
started talking, and who was supposed to be a political analyst from a
conservative think tank, looked like he was going to burst in outrage. The
anchor finally took pity on him and let him have his say.
"It does not matter how successful that... that individual is! - he exclaimed,
his huge, grizzled moustache trembling - He is a war criminal. He doesn't
belong in a respectable corporation like the IGBC, but in jail, or six feet
under! San Hill may think that his money justifies flaunting the law and public
decency, but it is not so! It is a scandal!"
"You presented a motion in the Senate to have Ghamdzhan and his lieutenants
arrested or eliminated, right?" the anchor inquired.
The think tank man nodded. "Of course! - he admitted - Those aliens are a
menace. The Republican intervention was inefficient, and has not eliminated the
possibility that they might attack some other civilized planet, in the future.
How long will it take before we have a Galactic security problem like the old
Mandalore used to be? We need to act preemptively!" he asked, growing red in
the face.
Even if he had just started talking, Maul was already hoping that he would have
a heart attack on camera.
"So you think that the embargo, the economic sanctions, and the military
intervention against Kalee were not enough to solve the problem?" the anchor
asked.
"Of course not! - the man retorted with indignation - They are just a
palliative cure, to buy the Galaxy some time, but they don't eliminate the root
cause of the problem! The carpet bombing of Kalee might have killed a few of
them, but the most dangerous warleaders are still out there, unpunished, and
until those terrorists are put in the ground, Kalee will never be pacified." he
argued.
"That's not true!" a female voice objected, causing the man to become even more
outraged.
The anchor turned towards the source of the voice with a stern expression on
her until-then smiling face.
"Miss Ahyan, I would ask you to let the others speak without interrupting them.
- she instructed - Your will have your turn to speak." It sounded like she had
some bone to pick with the other lady.
The camera didn't even show the person whom the rebuke was directed to, but
focused on the anchor, who turned back towards the think tank man with a sweet
smile.
"Sorry about the interruption, Gebhardt. - she said - You were telling us about
your proposal to make that sector of the Galaxy secure once more... Are the
Kaleesh really so much of a threat to the Republic?" she asked
The man nodded vigorously. "Yes, Jenny, they are. Kalee was part of the Sith
Empire up until the Great Galactic War, and even afterwards..." he started
explaining, but the same female voice from before interrupted him again.
"That's ridiculous! It was four thousand years ago!" the woman exclaimed.
The man stopped in his tracks and the anchor turned towards the sound again, a
sneer on her face.
"Miss Ahyan, this is the last warning. - she threatened - If you don't behave
civilly to the other speakers, I'll be forced to have security escort you out
of the room." she added curtly, before turning back towards Mr. Gebhardt.
"As I was trying to say before being so rudely interrupted, those aliens don't
know democracy, they don't share our values. It's not in their culture. All
they understand is violence. - Gebhardt continued - The threat they pose to the
Republic will not be fully eliminated if the warleaders are left to follow
their revanchist agenda." he explained.
And if the Republic had left the bloodthirsty lizards the hell alone, they
wouldn't have had the problem of revanchist feelings, Maul thought.
"They need to be neutralised, one way or another, so that they cannot keep on
inflaming the spirits of their people, and a permanent military force needs to
be installed on the planet until we can be sure that those aliens adhere to a
civilized lifestyle and to the values of the Republic..." the man added.
Maul started to wonder if that Gebhardt could even smell the stench of the
bullshit he was spewing.
"Republican values my arse - he thought - There must be some ulterior motive to
his desire to occupy that backwater hole."
"Isn't a military occupation too much?" the anchor asked. Even she looked a bit
taken aback by the man's plan.
"Hardly. Kalee has been abandoned for far too long by the Republic. - the man
replied dismissively - It is not just for the sake of the rest of the Galaxy,
but also for the people of Kalee itself, of the women and children who have
been used like sentient shields by the deserve a better future, and we can
provide it. We have a duty to bring democracy and civilisation to them."
"And that takes the prize for hypocrisy..." Maul judged.
He had the feeling that that would be the arena where the next stage of
Sidious' war would be fought: in talk shows and political meetings. The old
wanted to dismantle the Republic piece by piece, but from where he was it
looked like it would manage to do that all by itself. Greed, speciesism and
political short-sightedness would serve as amazing kindling for the Sith-
ignited fire.
A guffaw was heard from the sidelines. Someone shared his opinion of that
Gebhardt. It was nice to know.
"That's it, Miss Ahyan!" the anchor said, livid, looking like she was going to
jump from her seat and hit the other woman.
"No, Jenny, no need to make a victim out of her and her pseudo-pacifist friends
at the Sentient Right Watch. - Gebhardt advised, setting a hand on Jenny's
slender arm - I am quite finished. Let the poor girl speak, for as much good as
it can do to her cause..." he added with clear sarcasm and his upper lip curled
in a sneer.
Jenny hesitated a moment, then nodded.
"Alright, Miss Ahyan. - she conceded - This is your occasion."
The camera finally turned to the second woman, sat on a stool away from the
table. She was a white-skinned Twi'lek, dressed in a sleeveless, black dress
which looked like it had been made with layers of ripped fabric and net. The
innermost layer was quite tight against her angular, androgynous body, while
the rest shimmered around her as she shifted on the stool. The camera zoomed so
that only her head and mostly bare shoulders were in the cut. She had black
tattoos over her eyes, where her eyebrows would have been, had she been human,
and down her strong nose and chin, a pattern of lines and small dots. She
wasn't classically beautiful, like the average Twi'lek women tended to be, but
she looked undoubtedly striking and slightly dangerous.
"What? No first names with me? - the Twi'lek asked in mock-surprise - It's Dr
Lee'ahyan then, for you. That doctorate in Galactic Law should amount to
something, don't you think?" she provoked.
Jenny gave her the fakest possible smile. "Yes, of course. - she convened
rigidly - Sorry for the oversight."
"Apology accepted. - Lee'ahyan conceded smugly - But let's get to business. I
have a question for Mr Gebhardt: how much of your democratic evangelism is due
to the rare earth fields discovered by the Yam'rii on Kalee? Now that the ones
on Hypori are running low they come in right handy, don't you think?" she added
in a sweet, deadly tone.
"Ha! She's caught you out in the open!" Maul commented out loud, feeling really
pleased. He didn't like the idea that a brave, warlike people could be
oppressed by cowards for the sake of greed without consequences.
Gebhardt spluttered and nearly blew a gasket. "How do you know about them?! -
he exclaimed - This is confidential information! I'll sue you for corporate
espionage!"
Lee'ahyan raised a tattooed eyebrow. "Hardly necessary, Mr Gebhardt. - she
retorted, regally dismissive - Anyone with the right expertise can take and
analyse samples from a mine. Your blatant speciesism has blinded you to the
fact that the Kaleesh are a resourceful people, and that they are not
completely without support." she added, twisting the knife in the wound.
"I will not stay here and be insulted!" the man exclaimed.
"I am not insulting you. I am merely stating the truth, something you don't
seem to be acquainted with. - Lee'ahyan said sternly - You talk about war
crimes, and I agree that the khans have overdone it by a large measure, but no
one has cared to investigate the causes of the crisis. Both the Senate and the
Jedi Order believed without question the narrative of the hard-working insect
race, savagely and unreasonably attacked by their neighbors, that the Yam'rii
and of their Trade Federation connections have spoon-fed you."
"And who were they supposed to believe? Civilized, trustworthy interlocutors,
or bloodthirsty savages who can barely speak Basic?!" Gebhardt butted in,
nearly shouting and clearly panicking. He hadn't expected the woman to know
what she was doing, and, by the Force, she knew it well.
Lee'ahyan didn't lose her cool. "Well, sir, it turns out that your civilized,
trustworthy chums had been lying out of their teeth. - she retorted - The
Yam'rii have occupied Kalee for years. They have taken almost a quarter of the
population in slavery, and worked them to death in the colonies or sold them
off in Hutt Space. Millions of people, Mr Gebhardt. Gone, disappeared." she
revealed.
"This is a blatant lie! You have no proof of your statements!" Gebhardt
shouted. Clearly the rule of not interrupting didn't apply to him.
"Of course I do. There are witness statements, and if you choose not to believe
the Kaleesh, well, mass graves don't lie. - the Twi'lek stated, a sneer on her
face - Families were shattered, entire settlements devastated. Children were
forced to take up arms and defend themselves or die. For almost thirty years.
And the Republic did nothing. Nothing at all. And then when the Yam'rii came
crying because the dog they had kicked until then had finally managed to bite
back, you immediately sided with them, unquestioning." she continued
relentlessly, standing from her stool and padding towards the main table and
Gebhardt, who was almost quailing in fear.
"Do you have any idea of what damage the so-called "peacekeeping intervention"
has caused to Kalee? No, you don't. You have always lived comfortably, free,
and safe, and well fed... - she said mournfully, stopping a few steps away from
him and crossing her arms under her small breasts - I will tell you, then. All
settlements were ruined by the carpet bombing, most infrastructures are gone,
and countless civilians have died. And on top of that, sanctions and the
embargo. The Kaleesh are starving, Mr Gebhardt, and what's worse, now they know
that for the Republic they are not even worth the wood for their funeral
pyres." she concluded.
Maul could almost hear a chunk of the credibility of the Republic and of the
Jedi Order shatter like a dropped glass.
"Have Sidious and his Master organised this whole mess as well? Or is this just
a consequence of the ascendancy of the Dark Side?" he asked himself.
During his service to Sidious, he had rejoiced at the thought, but now the idea
that Fate itself was playing into the old man's hands felt very unnerving. He
didn't like it anymore. It felt as if it would be impossible to stop him, and
that scared him more than anything else.
It made him feel insignificant and powerless.
"This is not true! - Gebhardt objected - The peace-keeping force performed
surgical air-strikes on military targets only. If there were any civilian
deaths, it is because the Kaleesh have used the civilians as sentient shields."
he added.
"Military targets?! - Lee'ahyan exclaimed, starting to become outraged herself
- There was just one spaceport on the entire planet. There were no military
bases or even barracks, no weapons factories. What the mercenaries bombed were
water-treatment plants and towns! Yes, sir, they were mercenaries, not
volunteers. They were boosted by some Jedi, but were still mercs, paid by the
Trade Federation and the Commercial Guild. Let's call things with their names,
shall we?" she added, nearly shouting, when Gebhardt tried to interrupt her.
"Yes, let's! - he retorted - The audience deserves to know that you are not
objective. You are trying to manipulate them in favor of those savages because
you are in a relationship with one of them!" he accused, pointing a finger at
her.
Lee'ahyan froze for a moment.
"We are not discussing my private life." she said sternly.
"Yes, we are, because the public deserves to know that the paladin of the
bleeding-heart liberals is resorting to emotional manipulation because she
doesn't have any other means to defend her lover." Gebhardt retorted.
Lee'ahyan's face was a mask of fury and her dark eyes glared daggers at
Gebhardt.
"This is a low blow..." Maul thought. The conservative guy was running out of
rhetoric and was trying to demolish her character. He wished he could punch
him.
"First of all, we are married. - Lee'ahyan replied, with all the dignity she
could muster - And second, I am representing the people of Kalee in the Supreme
Galactic Court. I am supposed to be on their side. Especially because no one
else is." she concluded, minimizing the damage as much as she could.
"Your husband is Qareem khan, right?" the anchor asked, and on the screen of
the studio appeared another security-camera still, showing another Kaleesh man,
more slender and boyish than the previous, in the act of skewering a merc with
a spear.
Lee'ahyan turned to glare at the anchor.
"Yes, he is." she replied curtly, evidently trying to dismiss the subject and
get back to business.
"An interspecies relationship... This is very... avant-garde,so to speak. - the
anchor commented with a clear hint of disgust - He has other wives, right? It
must be hard... How are you coping with it? And I've heard that women abuse is
widespread on Kalee... But of course it has never happened to you, has it?" she
asked, faking concern
"I am not discussing this with you." Lee'ahyan replied stonily.
"I see... - Jenny said, nodding gravely - You are trying to protect him... This
is so romantic... But no amount of love justifies abuse. It is wrong. You
should seek help." she advised.
"Cleverly done, little bitch..." Maul thought. Lee'ahyan wasn't comfortable
with discussing her private life on the 'Net, which was totally understandable,
and the anchor was using her reticence to give the impression that she had
something to hide.
If the rumor that the Kaleesh were abusers of women became widespread, they
would end up losing the support of the liberals, who were usually quite big on
all kinds of sentient rights.
"This is ridiculous! Qareem has never abused me!" Lee'ahyan exploded.
"Sure..." the anchor said sweetly, but with an expression that implied that she
didn't believe a word of it.
The rest of the speakers were watching the scene in astonished silence, growing
more and more embarrassed.
"Jenny, this is all very interesting, and I'm sure you can make a whole new
inquest on it in future, - Kunnar the Cerean intervened finally - but I have
the feeling that we are going a bit off-topic from the legacy of Hego Damask,
don't you think?" he suggested.
Whatever else might have been said afterwards, Maul didn't catch it.
Hego Damask.
The same man that had been mentioned in connection with the death of Ars
Veruna, the previous king of Naboo, who had been found dead, apparently of
terror, in his private, heavily fortified palace.
A man he had met on Naboo during the invasion, a human called Maris Magneta,
who had been Veruna's Head of Security, had told him that Veruna had been dead
set on getting rid of Damask because of the rights for the extraction and
commercialization of the plasma from the mines on the planet. The Black Sun
mafia had also been mentioned.
he had found it curious, and the coincidence had briefly piqued him before his
fateful battle with the two Jedi.
This Veruna and the Black Sun had tried to off Hego Damask, and then Veruna had
gotten himself killed in a way that only a Sith could manage, and, more or less
at the same time, Sidious had sent him to exterminate the entire Black Sun
leadership...
Feeling like everything was coming together, Maul reached for the remote,
switched off the video and tried to access the data streams.
It was a bit of a desperate attempt, because he knew that letting him have data
access would be a safety breach of epic proportions on the side of the Naboo
and the Jedi, but he had to try...
The access page for the data streams loaded up without a hitch, instead.
Maul felt surprised, relieved and irritated at the same time.
"Bloody Lightsiders! - he thought - Can't they even protect themselves?! What
if I was still trying to stick one up theirs?"
He would have to tell Obi-Wan off, when he came back from wherever he was.
It only took a few moments of fumbling with the old-ish holographic controls
and cursing against the tubes and sensors that restricted his movements, before
he had several news and views data-streams and a biographical one up and ready.
He quickly skimmed through blocks of text and surfed deeper in the piles of
content, feeling as if he had someone at his back, running after him, as if he
needed to find the answer as quickly as he could, before it was too late.
It didn't take him long to find the information he wanted, but when he finished
absorbing it, he felt as drained as if he had fought against a rancor.
Everything was falling in place... there were still a few gaps, but the main
bits looked solid.
Hego Damask had been targeted by a mafia assassination attempt just a year
before, allegedly for his advisory role in the fraud and corruption committee.
Someone had blown up his private residence with a nuclear bomb...
Yes, Maul told himself, a nuclear bomb like the one he had retrieved from Cog
Hive 7 and handed over to the Bando Gora during the super-secret mission he had
performed for Sidious. He doubted that there very many of those around... And
yet, somehow, it had found its way to Black Sun and then to the banker's buen
retiro.
Veruna, on the other hand, had been connected to Black Sun in a corruption
investigation, and his mysterious death had been attributed to the agency of a
Black Sun assassin, possibly that weird white-skinned witch he had met and
eliminated at their headquarters.
His death and the investigation had paved the way for the election of
idealistic, young and admittedly cute Queen Amidala, who had then been set up
as the ideal victim of the Trade Federation.
That was a big pile of coincidences... too big for the connection between the
players to be random.
And there was more. Hego Damask, a Muun, had died of cardiovascular disease in
his pied-a-terre on Coruscant. Usually that meant a heart attack, but the
problem was that Muuns had three hearts. How likely was it that all his three
hearts had failed at the same time without external help?
His death looked suspiciously like what had happened to that fool Veruna.
And then there was the date. Damask had died three weeks before, and when he
did the maths in his head, the date and time corresponded almost to the minute
to when he and Obi-Wan had felt that struggle within the Dark Side and then the
death of a Sith.
An uncountable number of people must have died throughout the Galaxy around
that time, that was true, but how many were so intimately connected to the
plans of Darth Sidious?
There was only one logical explanation to his findings, one that was consistent
with what Sidious had told him about the fact that the Sith had been plotting
in secret and maneuvering to get into positions of political and economic
power.
Hego Damask was the other Sith, Darth Sidious' own Master, killed by his hand
according to the old traditions.
Maul paused for a moment, contemplating the magnitude of his discovery.
He had found the Master.
The evidence wasn't totally bomb-proof, but it looked quite solid from where he
was standing.
And not just that: if Damask was the Master, he could probably trace Sidious
back to him. He would bet that their public identities would be connected,
somehow, and he knew Sidious enough to profile him at least a bit.
He could get him.
Now he had something solid to give Obi-Wan. He could prove that he was useful
and worth keeping at his side.
The idea made him almost giddy with happiness, so much that he laughed to
himself like a maniac, and the release of the tension that had taken over him
during the evening made him feel exhausted. It was a pleasant combination.
He gave a last look at the long, pale face of the banker, who was sternly
gazing at him from a HoloNet still, then shut the data-streams.
He knew where to find the information he needed and didn't want Obi-Wan to know
that he had exploited his oversight. He'll tell him everything when he arrived,
or in the morning, give him a nice surprise...
His head felt heavy and his eyes felt tired and ready to close on their own.
Now that he had achieved something and allayed his worries, that sense of
wrongness had faded away almost completely. It seemed safe to take a nap.
Sighing in contentedness, Maul lay back down against the slope of the bed,
closed his eyes and fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
***** The Loftiest Joy, the Deepest Pain *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I
     do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.
     MASSIVE WARNING: F/M/F explicit stuff between consenting teenagers
     (kind-of-underage, but they didn't know and he didn't know either),
     explicit consent, high-school-style drama, homphobia, physical,
     emotional and sexual abuse of a minor (thanks to Sidious, obviously,
     and I've tried to keep it non-graphic), violence and character deaths
     (yes, multiple), plus a side helping of angst, grief and despair.
     Also contains my headcanon about Maul's tattoos, incorporating some
     concepts from the comics published by Dark Horse at the time of the
     Prequel Trilogy.
     This chapter has a bit of everything triggering, unfortunately. I
     think I was channeling dear old GRR Martin a bit too hard, you'l tell
     me if it is too much, I suppose.
     If you can't deal with any of the above, please write me a message
     and I'll give you a summary of the plot, so that you can go on
     reading without missing anything.
     Spoilers for/references to: I am basically re-writing the short-story
     Restraint to suit my narrative needs. I've thrown in a few OCs and
     re-cast one of the original characters, but the basic plot is
     similar. Most of this chapter is a flashback.
Maul dreamed of a place he knew. He had been there in the flesh, a long time
ago.
He was walking down a corridor in some sort of barracks. The floor was some
sort of reddish stone, and the walls were whitewashed. Everything was clean,
but worn and essential.
He passed by a young man in Mandalorean armour, and the little piece of work
purposefully bumped him with his shoulder. Maul felt like hitting him, but
forced himself to ignore him. He knew his name, even if he didn't know how. He
was Meltch Krakko, from Mandalore, the most annoying bastard in the whole
Academy.
The scene changed. He was in a canteen. The room was big and the ceiling low.
The light of the sunset poured through the windows. Groups of adolescents
milled around the food isle and the tables. He was aiming at an empty table in
one of the corners, so that he could eat in peace without having to worry about
Krakko and his bunch of dickheads ruining his meal, when someone hailed him and
yelled for him to sit with them.
Without second thoughts, dream-Maul did as told, moving towards the new table.
Two girls were already sitting there. One was a slender, brown-skinned human,
with long dark hair, liquid dark eyes and a mischievous smile, the other was
Nautolan, taller and more muscular than her friend, her green skin crossed by a
few scars. They both looked equally beautiful to him.
Without knowing how, he knew that they were the two best friends he had ever
had, maybe the only ones.
Kilindi Matako and Daleen...
He remembered them now.
Kilindi had invited him to swim at the beach, only a few days after he had been
enrolled at the Academy by his Master, when all other students had tried to
pick on him for being short and a red-skinned freak.
The three of them had always teamed up for group work, until Kilindi had
graduated a few months before. They had fought side by side in countless brawls
against Krakko and his stooges, and had ended up in detention together more
times than he could count.
When he had come back to the Academy with his new tattoos, still sore all over
and still unable to recognise himself in the mirror, they had been the only
ones who had not made fun of him and who had not treated him even more like a
freak.
"They look completely awesome, Red! - Kilindi had complimented him instead -
People are going to piss their pants, when you step in the fray!" she had
commented, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I don't think you look that scary. - Daleen had commented - I think you look
quite sexy... Dark and dangerous you know?" she had added, tracing one of the
black stripes on his cheek. The sensation had been so sweet that he had almost
trembled under her touch.
"Yes, I see your point. - Kilindi had agreed, giving him a brief but very
heated look - And I bet they would work great as camouflage!" she had added.
The three of them had burst into laughter at those words, and from then
onwards, he had started to accept the change, to enjoy it even. He had liked
the idea of looking scary and dangerous, and had been intrigued by the
possibility of looking sexy.
And yes, the tattoos weren't too bad as jungle camouflage, especially in
certain lights. The day after that conversation, he had hid in a bush waiting
for Krakko, and that idiot had not realised he was there until he had sprung
out to beat the snot out of him.
Kilindi and Daleen had gifted him with most of the happy moments he had
experienced in years.
In the dream, he sat down at their table with a shy smile on his face.
"So... we've heard your finals are going to be at the end of the week." Kilindi
said, looking secretive.
Maul nodded. "Next friday night." he confirmed. Three days to go.
"Scared?" Kilindi asked.
"Should I be?" he retorted haughtily.
"You should not underestimate them, Khameir." she chided him.
There was a minute of perplexity before recognition came in. Yes, that had been
his false name back then. He had forgotten.
"That's when I got most of these." she added, pointing at the scars on her
arms, showcased by her sleeveless top. She was proud of her battle-scars. He
had always liked that in her.
"I'll be careful, then." he conceded.
"Don't you have anything else to say?" Daleen asked, frowning slightly and
crossing her arms below her shapely breasts. Maul's eyes strayed for a moment
before he slid his gaze away and forced himself to focus.
"I will be very careful?" he proposed, perplexed.
"That's not what I meant!" Daleen protested.
Maul looked at her in increasing confusion.
"What did you mean, then?" he asked.
"Ah! You are incredibly thick when you wish to, eh?" Daleen exclaimed,
exasperated, shaking her head.
"Daleen has sneaked into my father's office and looked up your records."
Kilindi revealed smugly.
Maul tried to keep his expression studiously neutral even as an alarm started
ringing in his mind.
"So what?" he asked, feigning boredom.
"So, we know that today you are turning eighteen! - Daleen interjected - When
were you planning to tell us?!"
"Eighteen? Today?" Maul thought. Well, of course his alter ego Khameir Sarin
would have a date of birth, and it would have been recorded somewhere, and he
supposed that his Master had back-dated it to make him appear older than he
actually was.
Maybe, just maybe, he should have told him when it was, so that he would not
look like a bloody idiot when those two sprung the information on him.
"Well, it's because it is not that important. - he improvised - I have already
had my coming-of-age ceremony." he added, pointing at his tattoos.
"It is important to us. - Daleen insisted - We have known you for what? Four,
five years? And we have never managed to celebrate your birthday! "
"Everyone is born. It is not an achievement to be celebrated." Maul objected,
starting to feel uncomfortable.
"Not everyone is born amazing like you, mate. - Kilindi argued, patting his
shoulder - We can celebrate the fact that you have survived one year more, if
you prefer. With the life we lead, it's not a given." she added with a hint of
melancholy.
"Actually, we were planning to celebrate after your final, but... I don't
know... It doesn't seem right to let this opportunity slide. - Daleen chimed in
- Please, Khameir, let us celebrate it with you! It's your last before
graduation! Who knows if we're still going to be together this time next
year..." she concluded, inching closer to him, so that with every breath he
inhaled the sweet, intoxicating scent of her skin.
"Come on, Red. We have a surprise for you. Took us ages to get it. Don't let it
go to waste." Kilindi insisted, sneaking an arm around his shoulders and
caressing the back of his head. He shivered and involuntarily closed his eyes
as his heart started beating double-time. Her hand was pleasantly cool against
his skin, but his whole body started feeling hot and almost too tight.
There was a small voice at the back of his mind that urged him to say no, to
lash out and run away, but it was getting quieter and quieter the more Kilindi
touched him.
He doubted he was really turning eighteen. He didn't actually know how old he
was, his Master had never told him, but he suspected he was way younger than
that. Nevertheless, he would be turning something, sometime, and the girls
seemed so eager to do something for him...
No one had ever gone any sort of length to please him before. No one had ever
wanted to give him a surprise, or had felt that there was something worth
celebrating about him.
Was it so wrong that he wanted to know how it felt?
"Alright." he said.
"Awesome! - Kilindi exclaimed - We gotta go now, but you can meet us at the
weight room after curfew tonight." she added, getting to her feet.
"Don't stand us up, alright?" Daleen advised, readying herself to leave. She
paused briefly before walking away with Kilindi, just enough to deposit a brief
kiss on his cheek, and Maul thought that both his hearts were going to burst in
a surge of adrenalin and happiness.
He sat there alone at the table, with his food growing cold in front of him.
Eating couldn't be more far away from his mind.
He had liked that kiss. He wanted more.
In the dream, it was late night almost instantly, the lights had been switched
off and the halls were silent. He sneaked towards the weight room quiet as a
shadow. The two girls were waiting for him and led him to Kilindi's room.
As a graduate and the adoptive daughter of the owner and director of the
Academy, she had a room all for herself, with an en suite bathroom and a double
bed. It was even in a detached bungalow, separated from the main building
housing the dorms by a strip of grass, so privacy was ensured, unless they made
an awful lot of noise.
Daleen closed the door behind them, and Kilindi turned on the lights. On her
desk were aligned several food containers and a strange fat-bottomed bottle,
covered in a strange sort of metallic paper.
"Chocolate chip cookies, looma fruit from the Core Worlds and vanilla ice-
cream. - Kilindi announced, pleased and proud, pointing at the food - I
smuggled all of it in during my last off-world mission, but it was Daleen who
came up with the idea."
"And I brought a cake from home. - the human girl added, cracking one of the
containers open - I made it myself and froze it in carbonite so that it would
to keep for long enough."
"I even got some bubbly from my dad's stash. - she continued, pointing at the
bottle - It's only for very special occasions." she added with a wink.
Maul felt humbled and elated by the fact that they had thought so much about
him.
"You shouldn't have gone through so much trouble for me. - he said quietly -
This is expensive stuff. It is too much for the likes of me." he added, and
would have gone on for a while longer in a fit of embarrassed logorrhoea, if
Daleen had not suddenly decided to kiss him again. Her lips had barely brushed
the corner of his mouth, but it completely prevented him from talking or
moving. Even concentrating on breathing was quite hard. Down below, things
awakened, and the only thing he could think of was that he should find the
courage to kiss her properly. All it would take was for him to shift his head a
fraction to the side.
She withdrew, though, and all his plans went to nothing. He blinked at her with
a vaguely surprised expression and she smiled.
"This is a special occasion. You are special." she said, gently caressing his
cheek. Behind her, Kilindi smiled and nodded.
Since they were so determined, Maul decided to cave in. There was no point in
arguing, and the longer he stayed with them, the higher were the chances of
managing to get a proper kiss, or maybe more than one. He could only hope.
Eventually, they tucked in. The cake was sliced with one of Kilindi's combat
knifes, the ice-cream was eaten straight from the tub with spoons stolen from
the canteen and the fruit and cookies were dunked in it. He wasn't sure it was
supposed to be eaten that way, but it tasted good.
They sat on Kilindi's bed and talked, and laughed, and ate as much of the
sweets as they wanted, until they couldn't eat even a crumb more.
"Right! Time for the bubbly!" Daleen declared.
With ease born of practice, she unwrapped the bottle and popped its cap. There
was a sound like a small explosion and some foam escaped from the neck of the
bottle. Kilindi laughed and rushed in with some brightly coloured paper cups,
letting Daleen pour a small amount of liquid in each.
"Here, have one." Kilindi said handing him one of the cups. Maul glanced at the
pale yellow liquid inside and gave it a sniff. It smelled sour, but slightly
fruity.
"It's weird." he protested.
Daleen chuckled and raised her cup in the air. "To another year together!" she
toasted.
"And to Khameir!" Kilindi added, throwing her head backwards and downing the
cup in one go.
"Kilindi! This is not gustbuster! You should sip it, otherwise you cannot even
taste it!" she chided, gently slapping her friend's arm.
"Give me another, then!" Kilindi retorted with a grin, handing over her cup
without a single hint of having been cowed by the reproach.
Daleen huffed but poured another measure of bubbly in Kilindi's cup.
Maul ignored their antics, it was quite normal for them to bicker back and
forth like that, and took an experimental sip from his cup.
The taste of the bubbly was even weirder than its smell.
"It's prickly! And it's alcoholic!" Maul protested, grimacing and setting the
cup back down on the table.
The girls chuckled lightly. "It's not very alcoholic. Just a bit. I have drunk
a small glass of it with my parents every birthday since I was ten." Daleen
protested.
"We're not trying to get you drunk to have our wicked way with you. - Kilindi
declared - It's not remotely as romantic as it seems: it usually ends up in
regret, headaches and puke." she added with a rueful smile.
"And we'd rather have you sober and willing." Daleen chimed in, leaning towards
him until their faces were nearly touching and he could feel her breath mixing
with his.
"Have?" dream-Maul thought, his hearts racing crazily.
Vague but enticing scenarios painted themselves in his mind, scenarios that
involved a lot less clothes and snippets of pictures taken from the dirty
magazines stashed under one of the floor tiles in the boys' bunk room. He had
never found that stuff very exciting, the women pictured in them looked fake,
coarse and bored, and everything seemed sordid and forced, not unlike the
things his Master sometimes asked of him.
But these were Daleen and Kilindi, real and beautiful and always so kind, and
the thought of being able to have them and to be had by them like that... He
wanted it, he wanted it so much that he felt like he was burning inside with
desire.
He wanted them, and didn't the Sith philosophy say "want, take, have"?
"Would you be willing?" Daleen asked quietly, close, oh so close to his lips.
"Of course I am willing." he replied, brushing his nose against hers.
"There is no of course in these situations. - Kilindi chimed in, looking at
them both with desire burning in her gaze - You don't have to say yes just
because we bought you presents and it seems like the expected consequence of
things. You can say no. You can say stop." she continued.
That sealed the deal in his mind. If they considered him important enough to
give him a choice in such matters, even though they wanted him, they were the
right people to say yes to.
"But I don't want to say no." he retorted, casting a quick, heated glance at
Kilindi.
"I want to say yes." he concluded and finally found the courage to press his
lips lightly against Daleen's.
They were soft and plump and tasted like ice cream and fruit, and it felt so
amazing.
He cupped her face in his hands and let himself just feel the smoothness and
the warmth of her skin, the silken softness of her hair. He had never realised
how much he craved that sort of contact.
Daleen started her own explorations too, leaving trails of warmth over his skin
wherever her fingers glided, tracing his features or maybe the patterns of his
tattoos, and then upwards, to his hairless head and his horns. He had smashed
enough faces with them to know that the horns themselves were not sensitive to
touch or even impact, but the rings of raised, thicker flesh around their
base... that was another matter entirely. Daleen's feather-light touch was
enough to make him shudder and moan against her mouth.
And suddenly the kiss was not chaste and tender any longer, but heated and
passionate, tongues clashing, teeth nibbling on lips, hands roaming freely. His
clothes felt too warm and constricting and he felt relieved and glad when
Daleen started to tug at them, untucking his shirt and running her warm, warm
hands all over his torso.
It felt good, beyond good, and his hands moved almost on their own accord and
suddenly his hands were on Daleen's skin, under her shirt, and then the shirt
was gone, thrown on the floor and she was in front of him, bare from the waist
up and she was perfect, like a dream become flesh.
"Gods, Red... You're so beautiful... Both of you..." Kilindi whispered. Her
eyes were dark and unfathomably deep, her skin was flushed a deep green and her
head-tentacles rustled languidly. She reached out for him and next thing he
knew, his shirt was on the ground too and Kilindi was eating him up with her
eyes.
The small part of him that knew it was a dream hastily threw up a shield to
filter his thoughts before they reached the link. This and what was likely to
happen next was not something he was comfortable with sharing.
Kilindi tackled him to the bed and kissed him, hard and passionate and the next
thing he knew, his clothes had disappeared and both girls were touching him
everywhere, kissing him everywhere, and he thought he was going insane with how
good it felt, and he touched and kissed them back, and they were different,
soft curves and hard muscle, green skin and ebony, but they were both so
beautiful and he had never imagined it, but this... this was perfect, this was
paradise.
Suddenly, he was on his back on the bed, stark naked, but he didn't feel any
shame as the girls explored all his body, fascinated and slightly horrified at
how far down his tattoos went.
Yes, they went all the way down, and yes, even his dick was all stripy, and of
course it did hurt like hell to have ink done there, but even that excruciating
pain felt like nothing now that Kilindi traced his length with her fingers and
cupped his balls in her palm, making his breath come out in gasps and moans.
Daleen distracted him from that feeling by kissing him slowly and then shoving
her breasts in his face, encouraging him to fondle them, lick them and kiss
them. He obliged all too gladly, driven nearly mental by the small, soft noises
of pleasure she was making and by whatever Kilindi was doing down below.
Daleen grabbed one of his hands and guided it between her legs, showing him
where she liked to be touched. He tried his best, even if it was hard to
concentrate with Kilindi's hand sliding up and down his dick. Daleen moaned his
name and ground herself against his fingers, so he must have been doing at
least something right.
And then suddenly he was engulfed in a wet, soft heat, and the feeling was so
intense and maddening that he nearly arched off the bed.
That heat started gliding up and down his length and he thought that he was
going to fall apart and melt with the pleasure growing in him. He lifted his
head from the pillow, turning away from Daleen to look down his body, only to
realise that the thing that was causing that amazing feeling was Kilindi's
mouth wrapped around his manhood.
Memories of when his Master had forced him to do the same, of how wrong,
disgusting and humiliating it had been, of how dirty and used he had always
felt afterwards, flashed through his mind and he felt horrified to be deriving
pleasure from that.
"Kilindi! Stop! You don't have to do this!" he managed to gasp. Kilindi did
stop and raised her face, frowning in confusion.
"You don't like it?!" she asked.
"It doesn't matter if I like it or not! I am not going to do this to you. - he
declared adamantly - It's dirty, degrading... I... I can't! I don't want to
make you feel bad." he confessed, feeling immediately guilty and weak because
of his confession.
His Master had tried to teach him that the feelings of others, of weaker
people, should not amount to anything for him, that he should take whatever he
wanted, whenever it was the opportune moment to do so, without a single thought
to the damage it could cause others. He had told him that the only way to true
power, to true greatness, was to shed the conventional limits of right and
wrong that bound the unenlightened masses and give himself over to the the
unfettered freedom granted by the Dark Side.
That was the only way for him to fulfill his destiny of greatness and power, to
become special and worthy of his Master's praise, so much more than the
unwanted offspring of a spice-addicted Nar Shadaa whore.
He had always tried his hardest to please his Master, he had trained, he had
endured all sorts of pain and deprivation, he had fought and killed and maimed
for him, but he could not bring himself to do that to Kilindi or to Daleen. The
two girls had always been kind and supportive with him, they had always been on
his side, his allies, his friends. He could not make them suffer as he had. He
would not.
"But you're not making me feel bad." Kilindi replied gently, giving a light
squeeze to his dick, which in the meantime had lost quite a bit of tension.
"I feel good doing this to you. I like making you squirm and twitch. I like
that you like it so much. - the girl continued, looking up at him with barely
contained heat - Nothing about sex is dirty and degrading, as long as all
involved are fine with it and are enjoying themselves." Her hand started
sliding up and down his length again as she spoke and he could feel himself
hardening again under her touch.
"I... I am sorry." he managed, as pleasure and desire rose in him again. They
must have thought him weak and pathetic to bail out like that on something they
considered normal.
"Hey, don't be." Daleen reassured him, leaning over to kiss him.
"If you're not comfortable with something, you don't have to do it. - she
explained - This is about having fun and feeling good together. You don't have
to prove anything to anyone."
The look in her eyes was soft, she didn't look upset or disappointed at all,
and neither did Kilindi.
In fact, the Nautolan girl grinned at him when he looked at her, her eyes full
of mischief.
"She's right. - Kilindi agreed - Worry not, Red, there are many more ways of
making you feel good..." she promised and he felt his cock twitch in her grasp
out of pure anticipation.
Kilindi smiled and gave it a good squeeze. He couldn't help but moan.
"See, I told you, didn't I?" the girl said with satisfaction.
"I believe you... Oh, fuck!" he cried out. Kilindi had just given his dick a
small but firm sideways slap, and stars had suddenly appeared under his
eyelids. He had never thought that something like that would feel even remotely
good.
Kilindi cursed, her voice breathy. "Hell's bells! I need..." she said
"Go ahead." said Daleen.
Maul made an effort to open his eyes and figure out what that meant. He caught
a brief exchange of glances between the two. The Nautolan nodded and shifted,
then Daleen distracted him with a long, deep kiss, and the next thing he knew,
Kilindi had straddled his hips and was lowering herself on his manhood.
He nearly blacked out for a moment, unable to focus on anything apart from the
tight, soft heat slowly taking him in. His hips jerked instinctively upwards
and he slid in deeper, finding himself buried in her to the hilt. A harsh cry
escaped his lips, he couldn't stop it. Coherent thought all but eluded him.
"Gods, Red... It's a-fucking-mazing! - Kilindi whimpered, nearly trembling
around him - But if you scream like that, we'll have my father walk in to see
what's wrong... and wouldn't that be a shame?" she added playfully.
"Can't help... - he managed to rasp - Too good."
"Don't worry, I'll help. - Daleen chimed in - I'll keep you quiet..." she
added, kissing him once more as Kilindi started to ride him, undulating her
hips in a deep, slow dance.
Maul moaned in the kiss, and buried his hands in her hair, trying to ground
himself. Soon Daleen started moaning too, little breathy gasps against his
lips. Thinking that he might have hurt her by pulling at her hair too much, he
broke the kiss and surfaced for air. Only then he noticed that Daleen had slid
a hand between her legs and was touching herself while Kilindi fucked him.
Maul looked at her almost in awe.
"Let me help..." he whispered, taking her hand away and replacing it with his.
Daleen smiled and started grinding herself against his fingers, letting them
slide into her warm wetness and out again.
"That's very nice of you, Khameir..." she whispered, bending towards him to
capture his lips in a kiss. The position was slightly awkward, especially for
her, but it felt good. Her moans, her lips frantic against his, her hands
balling into the pillow to find an anchor... giving her pleasure was extremely
satisfying.
"Oh gods, you're almost too cute, you know?" Kilindi interjected, nearly
breathless.
The rhythm of her undulations picked up, faster and faster, and between her
riding his cock and Daleen kriffing herself with his fingers, the pleasure
started growing in him, deeper and more intense with every passing second,
until he couldn't contain it anymore and it spilled from him, making his whole
body tense up and bright lights exploded in his mind, gold and silver and
purple.
Distantly, he felt Kilindi reach her peak too, and then Daleen, but he was too
groggy and high on the afterglow of pleasure to do anything but snuggle against
them as they flopped to the bed next to him, searching for contact.
The bed was slightly too small for three people, but it wasn't too
uncomfortable. He liked the closeness and the warmth of their bodies against
his. It felt reassuring and very relaxing, and before he knew, they had all
fallen asleep together.
During the following week, they must have tried out all possible ways of making
love and even invented a few new ones.
The three of them knew fully well that it was very likely that his Master would
withdraw him from the Academy as soon as he passed his final, and that those
could be their last days together. They had decided to make the most of them,
to fill them with joy and lovemaking, to create memories that would last
forever. They had set out to make that week glorious and eternal.
Discretion had seemed slightly unimportant, and happiness was so hard to hide
anyway. They had started "dating" on a Sunday and by Tuesday morning most of
the students must have realised that there was something going on between the
three of them.
Krakko and his train of stooges did, at least.
The Mando caught up with him in the canteen, backed up by four other students
from the final year, the shortest of which was taller than Maul by at least a
couple of inches. At that point, after all the times he had busted the little
prick's arse, Krakko knew better than to try and face him alone. Two of them
slid behind Maul's back, the other two faced him, standing on either side of
Krakko. If he his Master had not forbidden him to use the Force, Maul could
have taken on them all. He still could, probably, but he had better things to
do than end up in the infirmary or in detention, so he let them strut around
and vent, at least to begin with.
"Hey freak! I've heard that the lezzos have ditched their plastic boyfriend for
you... They must be really desperate for dick to set the bar so low..." Krakko
provoked him. He had been stalking Daleen for the previous two years with no
success whatsoever, and looked livid with jealousy. Maul couldn't help feeling
a bit smug about it.
"What can I say? - he replied - Not everyone is forced to pay for sex like
someone I know..."
The idiot had been bragging an awful lot about his encounter with a prostitute
only a few months before, implying that he was more manly than everyone else in
the Academy. Maul found it particularly satisfying to be able to throw it all
back in his face.
"I might pay my whores, but at least I am not one myself. I have more self-
respect than that. - Krakko replied, fuming - Do the two perverts even pay you
for being their dick donor, freak?" he asked, stepping closer and crowding him,
but not too close.
Maul felt himself flush and clenched his fists at his sides, tensing up for an
attack.
"Watch your tongue, or I'll rip it out of your head." he growled.
"Oh, scary little bitch... - Krakko retorted, heartened by the fact that he had
not hit him yet - You know what, boys? I think that the green-skinned lezzy is
more of a man than he is!" he called out for the benefit of his followers.
Maul was caught between the contrasting imperatives of re-establishing the
correct hierarchy of forces by kicking the shit out of Krakko and his
followers, and of staying out of trouble so he could spend more time with
Kilindi and Daleen.
He didn't want the Mando to think him weak, but he could always leave him to
his empty boasts for the moment and punish him for his disrespect later, before
he left the Academy. Maybe he could break his arms and legs, and leave him in
the jungle for the wild beasts to eat. It would be a bit cruel on the poor
beasts, but it seemed an attractive plan.
Yes, leave his punishment to a future occasion and focus on the present, he
told himself, now the girls are much more important than this little piece of
Mando shit.
"I bet that she fucks you in the ass, and you beg her for it, pussy-whipped
little faggot that you are." Krakko insisted, spittle nearly flying from his
mouth in rage.
"Excuse me? - Maul retorted, putting a really tight lid on his rising anger - I
am friend-with-benefits with two girls, you only hang out with strapping young
men. Who looks more homo-inclined here?" he asked. The sudden change of
strategy had made him shut his gob, finally. Nice to know.
"Not that there is anything wrong with it, mind you. As long as you are
happy... Being gay is totally OK. - he continued, relishing in the astonished
expression painted on the gobshite's face - Now, you're not being so aggressive
because you didn't get the courage to ask me out before they did, are you?" he
asked, faking worry and even daring to pat him on the shoulder.
Krakko's jaw nearly hit the floor. He started stammering and the stooges
actually exchanged worried glances between themselves. Was he on to something,
or were they just so stupid?
"I see..." he continued, tilting his head to the side as if considering the
problem from a different perspective. He was on a roll now and the words,
borrowed from some of the movies Kilindi and Daleen had inflicted to him over
the years, came to him as easily as breathing.
"I'm flattered, really. - he pretended to confess - But, first, I'm already
taken, and, second, you're not really my cup of tea. Don't let this ruin our
friendship, though. I'm sure you'll find the right person soon enough. Just it
isn't me..." he concluded and exploited the moment of collective astonishment
of his foes to saunter away unhindered.
"I'm going to kill you slowly, freak! Do you hear me?! - Krakko shouted in the
distance - You're a dead man!" he threatened.
Maul ignored the idiot. Kilindi and Daleen had seen the whole scene and were
congratulating him for his bloodless victory, and that was the only thing he
cared for.
The dream flashed forward again to what he knew to be Thursday night. They were
in Kilindi's room once more, curled up in her bed after another amazing
lovemaking session. Daleen was out cold, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He
was sleepily caressing Kilindi's head-tentacles as she nuzzled against him, and
idly wondering if he would be able to engineer more occasions to meet with them
after his Master pulled him out of the Academy.
He didn't want to leave all of this behind. He didn't want to leave them.
In the dream he felt perfectly relaxed and happy, but the part of him that knew
it to be just a dream or a memory of some kind was starting to feel a dreadful
sort of anticipation. He was sure there was a reason why he was seeing those
things, why he was suddenly remembering a big chunk of events he had no
previous recollection of, and something told him that he would not like the
reason.
He wished he could will himself to wake up there and then, having seen only the
nice parts of those lost memories, but as much as he tried, he was stuck in
them and forced to be along for the ride.
Back in the dream, the door to Kilindi's room clicked open. The three of them
immediately switched from afterglow to commando-mode, grabbing the closest
weapons at hand and readying themselves for a fight. Maul thought it would be
Kilindi's father or at worst Krakko and his idiots, but then everything went
dark, so dark that even he could not see anything, and when he could see again,
he realised that people who were pointing arrows in their faces were neither.
He counted five humanoid women, dressed with black tunics and leggings and
armed to the teeth with bows, swords and assorted weapons, their pasty white
faces stained by black markings, plus a Zabrak man carrying an electrostaff.
His skin was a deep orange, streaked by brown tattoos that looked eerily
similar to Maul's own. The man's eyes, a piercing grey-blue, were trained on
him almost expectantly.
They were total strangers, Maul could have sworn he had never seen any of them
before in his life, but somehow, deep inside, they felt achingly familiar.
Maybe it was the Force, he thought. While Kilindi and Daleen barely registered
in it, all the strangers exuded a presence, not very strong, miles away from
his Master and not even strong as his own, but definitely there. He had never
been so close to another Forceful apart from his Master, so he couldn't be
sure, but maybe that was what the sense of recognition was all about.
At any rate, one thing was certain: they were in much deeper shit than he had
imagined.
"Looks like our boy's been keeping busy, Brother Viscus." said one of the
women, a tall lady with a side of her head shaven to the skin and a dark fringe
of hair on the other side.
Viscus, the Zabrak man, didn't even look her way.
"Are we sure it is him? - one of the other women, blond and sporting two
braids, asked - His markings are off. They look wrong." she commented.
"Yeah, I'd hate to bring Mother Talzin another decoy." Side-Shave agreed.
"It is him. - Viscus declared with certainty - We have her medallion, this
time, and it will would only light up for her own flesh and blood." he added. A
round jewel dangled from his neck, strung on a chain. It pulsated quietly,
emitting an eerie green light. It took Maul only a moment to realise that the
rhythm it was pulsating to was the same as that of his own hearts.
"Who are you? - he growled, refusing to lower his weapon - What do you want
from me?"
"He doesn't remember!" Two-Braids exclaimed, looking dismayed.
"Of course he doesn't remember! - Side-Shave retorted angrily - Do you really
think that bastard would have allowed him to?"
Two-Braids cowered and shook her head, trying to explain herself, but Viscus
raised a hand and both women stopped.
"He will remember, in time, but this is not the right time to discuss it. - he
declared, then turned towards Maul - The only thing you need to know is that
you are safe with us. We are here to rescue you and bring you back where you
belong." he said more gently.
Maul cursed under his breath. His Master was at his usual game again. It wasn't
the first time that he sent some people to tempt him away from him, only to see
if he could resist the temptation, if he could stay strong and loyal to him and
the Dark Side. This time he had gone to greater lengths than usual to arrange
things, but at this point he already knew the rules and no matter how enticing
their lies, he would know them for what they were.
"Right! Let's get going, then. - Side-Shave instructed - Drop your weapons,
kids, and come quietly."
"No way! - Maul retorted, unwilling to play along - I don't need rescuing and
I'm not going anywhere with you."
Side-Shave laughed. "You don't even realise how much you don't know, boy. - she
said - Now you either you drop your weapons, or Sister Libushe will drop you."
she added, jerking her head towards another of the women, who was brandishing a
blow-dart tube.
Libushe nodded and lifted the tube closer to her lips.
Sleep darts, Maul thought with dismay. He exchanged glances with Kilindi and
Daleen, who nodded, equally dismayed. Rule number one of kidnappings and
hostage situations was to try and not get knocked out, if possible. Awareness
of one's surroundings was key to survival and escape.
"Alright. I'll drop my weapons." Maul conceded, dropping his knife to the
floor. Kilindi's knife and Daleen's blaster followed shortly.
"Good move, kids. - Side-Shave complimented cheerfully - Now stand up and
follow us." she instructed.
Maul shook his head again. "I'll come with you, but you will let them go." he
said, infusing his words with a bit of Force, hoping that the woman would fall
for it.
Side-Shave frowned and shook her head for a moment. "Nice try, kid, but no. -
she retorted with a wicked grin - Your friends are coming with us. I'm sure
your mother will be thrilled to meet them. Get out of that bed, now!" she
ordered.
"I'm not going anywhere starkers!" Kilindi protested.
"We'd rather you didn't either. - Viscus replied calmly - Get your clothes on
and let's move. He might be here soon and we need to be well out of here before
that." he added, more to the benefit of his companions.
It was unlikely, Maul thought. His Master was not on the planet and was not
supposed to come back at least until the following day, or even the day after.
No help would come from that side. They were on their own.
They dressed quickly and in silence, their anxiety showing in the abruptness of
their movements.
"I am sorry... - Maul whispered to Daleen as he helped her do the zip on her
jumpsuit - I didn't want to involve you in this, whatever this is."
Daleen nodded and turned towards him, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek.
"It's not your fault." she said, but it was. His Master had organised all that
circus for him, and they had gotten caught in it. It would require quite a bit
of effort to extricate them from it and convince his Master to leave them
alone.
"Less talking, more moving!" Side-Shave ordered.
The strangers led them towards one of the shuttles used to get to the Orbital
Station and back. There was barely enough space for nine people in there, so he
huddled at the back of the shuttle with Daleen and Kilindi.
Viscus sat himself down in front of them and stared at him with an unwavering
and totally unnerving gaze.
Maul did his best to ignore him and focus on his surroundings, trying to find a
way to escape, but those grey-blue eyes seemed to pierce through him and that
bloody medallion kept on pulsating, following the beat of his hearts. Maul
could feel a waft of something that was like the Force but not quite coming
from the jewel. It was a powerful object, and it was clearly attuned to him.
His Master must have tampered with it to make it so, deceiving those people
into going after him. It was the only explanation.
Viscus seemed to be satisfied by the outcome of their mission, as far as he
could tell. The man's markings gave him a perennial slightly grim expression,
but there was no mistaking the hint of a smile curling his lips and the almost
awed look in his eyes. He was convinced that he had found what he was looking
for, and for him it was a great achievement. The boy he was looking for was
clearly important to him. Poor bastard, he thought.
"Why are you staring?" Maul asked, his tone harsh and rude.
Viscus blinked in surprise and shifted his gaze to the side for a moment,
before looking back at him. Maul returned his stare this time, meeting Viscus'
eyes with his own for a long moment. Viscus blinked first.
"I... I have been waiting for this moment for twelve years. - he said softly,
looking at the ground - I am afraid that if I look away, you'll disappear
again." he added, raising his gaze back to him.
"Twelve years?" Maul repeated.
Viscus nodded. "You were three when he took you away. - he explained - Your
mother, our leader, has been looking for you ever since. We nearly caught up
with you on Nar Shadaa just after you were taken, then on Mustafar, then the
bastard sent us on a wild goose chase to Rattatak, and then we lost track of
you almost completely and ran around half the Galaxy following any sort of
lead. It looked like we would never find you again. But she knew you were
alive. She never gave up on you. None of us did." he concluded, softly but
decisively, and this time Maul averted his gaze first.
Somewhere out in the Galaxy, there was a boy about his age who didn't know how
lucky he was to have a mother who loved him so much, and a bunch of crazy
relatives ready to storm a military facility to rescue him. For a brief moment,
Maul almost wished that it was true, that he was that boy. For a moment he was
almost tempted to say "Yes, it's me. Bring me home.". He would have a mother
who loved him, and a family. His would-be-rescuers were hard, strong people,
but they would cherish him, they thought he was important.
But he was not the prince of some strange tribe of Forceful, he was the son of
a whore, who had left him cold and hungry on the streets of Nar Shadaa, and
then had sold him to a stranger to finance her drug addiction. He had been
destined to a short, meaningless life, to die young of some illness or other,
or to overdose on spice, or to get killed by one of the other denizens of the
Smugglers' Moon. He could still remember how it felt, to be unwanted and
unloved, a nuisance, an extra mouth to feed, to be beaten and to be neglected.
He remembered how it felt to be weak, confused and afraid.
He had been nothing, until his Master had found him and told him that the Force
in him could make him special. He had taken him in, fed him, clothed him, and
trained him, so that he would become strong, so that all of his weaknesses
would be burned away by the Dark Side, leaving a perfect being, a superior
being.
There had been pain, and hardship and loneliness, but it had been for a
purpose, it had been because his Master had wanted him to succeed, and now he
feared nothing, and needed no one. Now he knew that everything that bound all
beings, every family tie, friendship and love, every loyalty, every rule and
law that protected the weak was a lie, a construction of the weak and myopic
Jedi Order, enforced to prevent truly superior beings from achieving the power
and the preeminence that were their natural rights.
The true nature of all beings was to crave power and domination. This was the
truth that only few were brave enough to accept. His Master had demonstrated it
to him time and time again, but it was harder for him to remember it when he
was in the normal world.
The lies of the Jedi were so pervasive that they could make even him stumble
and fall prey to temptation, that they could make him crave for affection and
attachment.
He should not have accepted the girls' offer. He should have been stronger than
that. Now he had fallen for the trick and he was letting their needs and
feelings bind his his will.
He wouldn't fall for it again, though, he vowed, no matter how heartbreaking
the hope in Viscus's eyes might be, no matter how fierce the affection in his
voice. He couldn't fall again, even though part of him wished that he could do
so.
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, old man. - he spat, putting as much contempt
as he could in his words - I am not him. I am Khameir Sarin, I was born on
Iridonia and I am eighteen, not fifteen!" he added, falling back on his cover
story with a vengeance. The man flinched slightly and Maul insisted, even
though he felt sorry to dash his hopes like that.
"And you nutcases might tattoo toddlers, but I got my ink done only a few
months ago! - he continued - Ask them if you don't believe it!" he offered.
He cast a quick glance over his shoulders and saw that both Kilindi and Daleen
were nodding.
"He's right mate. - Kilindi intervened - He was smooth, solid red until four
months ago. Not that I mind the change, Red. You looked a bit unfinished
without them." she added, winking seductively.
Viscus shook his head in denial. "The medallion doesn't lie. He is the boy we
lost." he insisted.
"Maybe it got tampered by whoever kidnapped your relative?" Daleen chimed in,
leaning over to place a hand on Viscus' arm. She sounded sad and gentle, as if
she didn't want to hurt the man.
"Or maybe it broke? - she continued - I don't know how it is supposed to work,
but if it has a DNA template in it, maybe it degraded and now it is pinging
even for lower-grade matches. Twelve years are a long time, mister." she added,
soft and reasonable. She might not be a great fighter, but she was a hell of a
negotiator. No one handled nutjobs like she did.
Viscus seemed to consider her argument for a moment, then shook his head once
more.
"No, it cannot be. As long as both the boy and Mother Talzin live, the
medallion will always point to him. - he repeated, maybe trying to prop up his
own conviction - She will see through this, I am sure." he added with finality.
The shuttle landed at the Orbital Station and the women herded them down and
towards the larger spaceship that waited in one of the bays. It was their last
occasion for making an escape before they were taken to wherever the nutjobs
lived.
Three against six. The odds didn't look good.
If he used the Force and left the girls behind to fend for themselves, he could
probably make it. Problem was, he could not countenance leaving them behind.
He had been on the verge of Force-pushing the nutjobs to the ground and
grabbing the staff from Viscus, when a group of people emerged from another
corridor, and started shooting at them with high-grade blasters.
"Fall back! Fall back!" Side-Shave yelled.
Two-Braids, who had been walking at the front, fell to the ground with a
startled cry. Viscus dragged her with him as they huddled behind the shuttle.
"She's gone." he announced. A blaster bolt had caught her in an eye, killing
her instantly.
"Damn!" Side-Shave cursed, nocking an arrow in her bow and letting fly over the
side of the shuttle. Something cried out in pain on the other side.
"Ha! Eat arrows, you poxy scum! - she yelled - Give me a good barrage,
Sisters!" she ordered. The other women were shooting without pause, ducking
behind the shuttle for cover.
"Who the hell are these people?!" Kilindi asked, crouching on the floor next to
Side-Shave.
"Osika Kiske and his band of motherless bastards. - the woman answered - We got
history with them, back from our trip to Rattatak."
"Who could have told him we were here?!" one of the other women asked.
"Garth Krakko, who else? - Viscus replied, grimacing in disgust - He told us
that the boy was here. He must have told Kiske that we would be here."
"It looks like he is still holding a grudge against you, doesn't it?" Side-
Shave commented,
"As I recall, you were the one to nearly castrate him during that job on Yavin.
- Viscus retorted - And it was still you who gave Kiske his beauty mark, if I
recall correctly." he added, shooting her a hard glance.
"Half-breed bitch! - someone shouted - I know you are there! You can't escape
this time! But worry not, I won't kill you! I'll keep you as my bed-slave and
I'll make you watch while your people fight and die in my arena!" he added,
concluding his announcement with a bout of barking laughter.
"Fuck you, Kiske! - Side-Shave shouted - You haven't captured us yet!" she
shouted back, shooting another arrow. The returning blaster-fire very nearly
clipped her.
"There are too many of them!" Sister Libushe exclaimed.
Maul and the two girls exchanged looks.
"Let us help. - Daleen offered - We are trained for combat. Maybe we can even
the odds a bit."
"No way!" Side-Shave exclaimed.
"Yes way! - Viscus retorted - We need the help if we want to get out of here,
Sister Kualu."
The woman hesitated just for a moment before nodding. "If they shoot us in the
back, it's your fault!" she declared.
"Grab a weapon and get cracking." Viscus ordered, ignoring her and turning to
the prisoners.
They didn't wait until he told them twice. Daleen reclaimed her blaster, while
Kilindi helped herself to her old knife and the dead woman's bow.
"Are you any good with that?" Kualu asked.
"Let me show you." Kilindi retorted, drawing the bow and skewering an
incautious raider.
Maul ignored his old knife and picked up the dead woman's two swords. They
resonated strangely under his touch and it took him a moment to realise that
they were imbued with the Force and possibly the next best thing to a
lightsaber. Good to know, he thought, twirling them appreciatively.
Viscus nodded approvingly and lighted his staff.
"Give us cover, Sisters, we are going to even out the odds a bit." he declared
with a feral smile.
"You heard him! - Kualu exclaimed - Fire at will!"
"Let's go!" Viscus ordered.
He darted around the shuttle, his staff held confidently in one hand. Maul
followed him, swinging towards the other side of the corridor, swords in hand.
Even with the suppressing fire from the women, some of the raiders managed to
shoot their blasters in return. Maul immersed himself in the Force, dodging and
twisting to avoid the bolts. A couple of steps ahead of him, Viscus was doing
the same and even managed to deflect an incoming bolt by twirling his staff.
Maybe he would be outclassed by an experienced Force-user, but against these
raiders, he was definitely Forceful enough to wipe the floor with them.
Raiders were not known for being the bravest fighters in the Galaxy. Their
strength was in numbers and in catching their targets by surprise and shooting
them full of blaster bolts.
Confronted with two capable warriors determined to get close and personal to
seek their blood, a few of them just dropped their weapons and ran for their
ship.
"Stand and fight, you lousy scumbags! - Osika Kiske shouted, dropping one of
his own retreating men with a blaster bolt to the back - There's only two of
them!" he roared, unsheathing his own sword, a massive vibroblade dented and
chipped in places by intense use, and charging in the fray.
Viscus shocked one of the raiders with his staff and moved to intercept the
leader, stabbing low with his weapon to interrupt his movement and force him to
fall back.
Maul let the older man to his own devices and focused on a group of raiders
that were trying to mount a coordinated response. He flowed in his favourite
combat form, Juyo, and advanced in the seemingly random pattern that was the
trademark of that technique. He had had few occasions of practising its
application to fighting with two swords, as opposed to a staff, but even though
they brandished vibroblades and tried to act tough, the raiders were not very
accomplished swordspeople, so that Maul had leeway to improvise and adapt a
little to this new fighting style. His Master would not be impressed by his
performance, but, as a first attempt, it worked well enough.
His flurries of blows confused his opponents, used to a different, less
sophisticated type of bladework, and his footwork more often than not wrong-
footed them, leaving them unable to mount an efficient response to his follow-
up strikes.
In the space of maybe a minute, he had already skewered two of his foes and
disabled two of the others with strategic strikes to arms and legs. It would
take them time to regrow those severed tendons.
The surviving ones must have been the most competent or prudent ones, and they
managed to recover from the surprise enough to react coherently and try to push
him back towards where Viscus was fighting against Kiske, twirling and spinning
that staff of his like a windmill.
His normal fighting style was quite similar, even if a tad less flamboyant, and
he knew how much space that took.
"Viscus! Watch out!" he yelled. The older Zabrak shot him the briefest look
over his shoulder, and nearly paid dearly for it when Kiske pressed his attack.
"Maul, switch!" he called out, stepping back from the enraged warlord.
"I'm on it!" Maul replied, disengaging from the raiders and running towards
him. Viscus bent at the waist, turning towards him and Maul side-flipped over
him, landing in front of Kiske with his swords aimed at the warlord.
Kiske was a big man, taller even than Viscus, who was at least 6'3", and burly,
his white skin stretched taut over bulging muscles. His sword was as big as
him, heavy and blunt-looking. Maul had no doubt that one hit from that would be
enough to smash his bones, but the plan was not getting hit at all anyway. He
danced around the warlord, exploiting his smaller size and agility. Every time
Kiske swung his slab of metal, he wasn't where he was supposed to be anymore,
and used the opening to score a hit between the plates of the man's heavy
armour. Arm, leg, hip, and arm again. Soon Kiske was dripping blood like rain
from the leaves of a tree, but the giant warlord didn't seem to notice. Big as
he was, he must have plenty to spare.
A piercing battle-cry echoed in the corridor and suddenly Sister Kualu appeared
in the fray, wielding two strange weapons that looked like sickles.
"Step away boy! - she yelled - Kiske is mine!"
Maul obediently withdrew, letting the woman settle her grudges with the
warlord. He turned towards the last few raiders still engaged with Viscus and
charged. He and the older man soon found a rhythm to their coordinated effort,
and in a moment the raiders were in full retreat.
"It doesn't end here, bitch!" Kiske yelled over his shoulder, running to save
his life.
Kualu knelt on the ground and nocked her bow again. Her arrow pierced his
shoulder and sent him sprawling to the ground, but Kiske managed to pick
himself up and stagger away.
"Hey, Red! - Kilindi called out from where she was dispatching a straggler -
Operation Ground and Pound, what do you think?" she asked with a wink. That was
their code- word for a surprise attack.
"Well, of course! - he replied without hesitation - Don't you think, Daleen?"
he asked.
Daleen nodded vigorously, and immediately they were on the move again.
Apart from Two-Braids, who was nothing more than cooling meat now, another one
of the women had been shot in the chest and, though still technically alive,
was down for the count. Only Kualu, Libushe and another Sister were left
standing, apart from Viscus.
Libushe and the other dropped suddenly to the ground without a sound. Daleen
blew again in the blow-dart tube she had stolen from Libushe in the confusion.
She could steal someone's nose from under their eyes, if she put some effort
into it.
Kualu cried out and stumbled, but didn't drop, and Viscus managed to deflect
the blow-dart away from him with his staff.
Kilindi and Maul attacked immediately.
Kualu and Kilindi ended up in a tangle of limbs on the ground. Before being
forced to give his entire attention to Viscus, Maul saw Daleen join in the
fray. He wouldn't have to worry on that side, but to compensate things, he had
plenty enough to worry about other matters.
Viscus looked severely pissed off, and launched himself against Maul with
determined fury.
"What are you doing?!" he exclaimed, swinging his staff high and then suddenly
low, hoping to catch him unawares.
"What does it look like? - Maul replied between gritted teeth - I told you I
didn't need rescuing!".
His answering flurry of blows was neutralised by twists and turns of the staff,
which turned again into a calculated offensive. Maul parried and dodged,
feeling a smile slowly spread on his lips. He was impressed by the older Zabrak
and pleased to have the opportunity to fight against such a fine warrior, but
he couldn't allow their encounter to drag on for his own personal satisfaction.
He could already feel his Master's presence at the periphery of his awareness.
He wasn't supposed to be in the vicinity, but there he was, approaching fast.
He had to finish it quickly.
Viscus was a much more experienced warrior than him, and possibly physically
stronger, but his connection to the Force was shallower than his and untrained.
Maul immersed himself deeper, instead, as deeply as he could, letting it guide
his actions. He could see the older man's movements almost before he executed
them, and he anticipated them, batting his staff away with his swords, and
rolling them around it until it was twisted out of Viscus's grip and it
clattered on the ground, tearing sparks from the linoleum.
Maul's swords were at Viscus's throat. He knew he should kill him and be done
with that, but the Force in him almost screamed "NO!".
He hesitated and made the mistake of meeting his eyes. There was no anger in
them, but heartbreak, confusion and bleak hopelessness.
Suddenly, he didn't have the strength nor the will to kill him any longer.
"Pick up your people and leave." Maul ordered, lowering his swords just a
fraction.
"Come with me, my son. Please... - Viscus pleaded, holding out a hand towards
him - I know you are him. I called you with his name, and you answered."
Maul froze for a moment. He did, didn't he? In the heat of the fight, he hadn't
even realised. The man had called him Maul. How could he know that it was the
name with which his Master called him?
Was that his real name then? The name his mother had given to him? How far did
the manipulation go? Was all of this true?
Were these people really his people? His thoughts were spiraling out of
control.
What was real? Who was he?
"He won't be able to hurt you anymore, I promise. - Viscus continued,
exploiting his silence - We will protect you. Please..."
"You can't! - Maul exploded, yelling at the top of his lungs - I don't need
protection! I need you to get the hell away from here! He is coming! Can't you
feel it?!" he yelled, reversing one of the swords and hitting the man in the
face with the pommel.
Viscus fell to the ground, a cut bleeding freely on his cheek. He looked even
more confused than before, and tears were starting to pool into his eyes.
"Get out!" Maul insisted, nearly maddened by anger and frustration. He kicked
Viscus for good measure, hoping that the man got the message, that he would
just go. He couldn't protect him. No one could.
Viscus was a brave man, he didn't deserve to die for loving his son so much. He
didn't deserve to be another casualty of his Master's manipulations. He didn't
deserve to die for the likes of him.
"Get out, do you hear me?! - Maul continued, well aware of how hysteric he must
be sounding - Get out, please! He will kill you all if he finds you here!" he
added, feeling like he was on the verge of crying himself.
Gods, he wanted for his claims to be true, for Viscus to be his father. He
wanted to belong somewhere, to fight side by side with his people, but he would
be condemning them even more firmly to death, if he decided to believe their
comforting, beautiful lie.
It was a lie. All of it, no matter how many coincidences were piling up. The
truth was as his Master had spoken it. He had to be strong in his certainty,
because now that he was doubting, it hurt more than he had ever imagined.
"Go away... - he rasped, fighting to hold back tears - I am no son of yours!"
he spat, but the disgust in his words was aimed at himself, because he wished
he was. He wished it so much.
Viscus gave him one last, long look, then turned his face away and gingerly
picked himself up from the ground.
Maul looked away, he even took a step back to avoid standing too close to him.
Kilindi and Daleen were sitting on top of a very aggravated and quite groggy
Sister Kualu. They looked at him with perplexed expressions, but Maul wasn't
feeling like giving them explanations. He was feeling like he wanted to fall
asleep and never wake up again.
"Let her go." he ordered.
The girls followed his instructions, and, cursing and staggering, the warrior
woman pulled herself to her feet.
"What the hell has just happened here?" Daleen asked, when the strangers had
managed to drag themselves to their ship. There was nothing left of them in the
Orbital Station except from a few bloodstains where Two-Braids and the other
wounded Sister had died.
"I am not sure. - Maul replied flatly - That bunch of nutters was really
desperate. It was surreal, to say the least." he minimised, but his words
sounded forced and brittle even to him.
"That guy did look a lot like you, Red." Kilindi objected, a frown on her face.
"No, he did not. - Maul objected, shaking his head - Stripes do not equate to
family looks."
"I didn't mean that. - Kilindi retorted, frowning even harder - I meant his
face, even the way he moved. It was more than a bit uncanny." she added,
lifting a hand and gently tracing his features.
Maul sighed. Yes, he had noticed too. It made it even harder to stay strong in
the truth.
"Listen, Kilindi, I know who my parents were. I remember them. - he lied - My
father died in a construction accident when I was three, and my mother topped
herself soon afterwards. I ended up in an institution, until my boss adopted
me." he explained wearily, leaning his forehead against hers.
"Any kid like us would like for their parents to be crazy awesome warriors,
wouldn't them? - he continued - But my folks were normal people, and now they
are dead. I can't change this." he concluded.
"I'm sorry, Red. - she said, kissing him softly and gently - Both for you and
for those people."
"Me too." Maul agreed, lowering his head on her shoulder and hugging her
closer. Daleen silently joined the hug, and little by little, the impulse to
cry or drop dead somewhere faded away, melted by the warmth and comfort of
their bodies against his.
"I'll get Meltch Krakko and rip his balls off for creating all this mess." the
Nautolan girl vowed after a moment.
"Why should he have anything to do with this?" Maul asked.
"Garth Krakko is his father. - Daleen replied for her - And Sister Kualu said
it had been him to tip them off about you."
"Little son of a gun..." Maul growled.
"Like I said, I'll gut him." Kilindi declared enthusiastically.
"No, you won't do anything like that." he retorted.
"Of course I will!" Kilindi protested, vehemently seconded by Daleen.
"No. You need to be away from here. - Maul explained - As far away as possible.
Off planet, even. Once my boss knows that someone tried to kidnap me, things
are going to get seriously ugly." he added. Or maybe not, who knew. Anyway it
was better to be safe than sorry. He didn't want for anything bad to happen to
them.
"So your boss is really from the mob..." Daleen commented.
"What?! - Maul exclaimed - Who said that?"
"There was no need for anyone to say anything. - the girl replied - I have eyes
and a brain." She sounded slightly disappointed for some reason.
"Well, we have all worked for the mob at least once, either directly or
indirectly. - Kilindi said, trying to defuse the situation - We are mercs. We
go where the money is, and there are lots of money in mob business. Not
everyone can keep their hands clean doing security work only."
Daleen nodded and sighed. "I suppose you are right. - she admitted - Let's go
back then." she proposed, freeing herself from the hug. She took Maul's hand as
if she wanted to walk with him, but he shook his head.
"I have to stay here and wait for him. - he said - He is coming here now. You
should get going." he added, and then, on an impulse, hugged her hard and
kissed her, trying to put everything he felt for her in that kiss.
"I care for you. - Maul confessed, when they surfaced for air - And for you
too, Kilindi. For both. I really do. Whatever happens, remember this, alright?"
he added a bit desperately, turning towards the other girl.
"Gee, Red, it looks like you're going to war!" Kilindi commented, before
smothering him in a hug.
It was war, just one the two girls knew nothing about and hopefully never
would.
His Master arrived not ling after Kilindi and Daleen had left. His presence was
overwhelming and cloying, and it made him almost unable to breathe.
Maul knelt on the blood-spattered floor, his head bent and his eyes glued to
the floor.
His Master stopped in front of him. Maul could see only his slipper-shod feet
and the hem of his cloak, but he could feel his cold, considering gaze
skewering him and scrutinizing him like an insect under an entomologist's
magnification lens.
"I see that you have prevailed again, initiate..." Darth Sidious commented in
his usual cold and thin voice.
Maul nodded. "Thanks to your training, my Master..." he said.
"I see... - Darth Sidious offered noncommittally - Come, initiate. There is
much we need to discuss." he ordered and just walked away, trusting that he
would follow, as usual.
The speedercar ride to his Master's lair in Blackguard Gorge passed in silence.
Neither of them spoke a word for the entire time. Darth Sidious seemed
confident and unflappable as usual, but Maul didn't let it lure him in a false
sense of safety. His Master rarely expressed any emotion.
He tried to calm himself down, to suppress all turmoil and all guilt about his
actions of the past week or so, to make a void into his mind, so that Sidious
would not immediately perceive his faults.
He didn't really think he could deceive him completely and permanently, but he
hoped to be able at least to confuse him a bit, and protect Kilindi and Daleen
if they needed protecting.
"So, how did you find this challenge, young Maul?" Darth Sidious asked, once
they were back in the large chamber they used for their private training
sessions.
His tone was conversational, almost friendly. It made Maul even more wary.
"Their lies were enticing, Master, but I could recognise them for what they
were." he replied, trying to forget how much doubt and pain they had engendered
in him.
"Deep in your heart, you still yearn for a loving family, don't you, initiate?"
Darth Sidious insinuated, starting to circle around his kneeling figure. Maul
repressed the impulse to turn and look at him, and kept his eyes firmly trained
on the ground, bracing for a blow.
"You would like to be the prince of a warrior tribe, wouldn't you?" Darth
Sidious continued.
"No, Master." Maul replied quietly.
"No? But that's what they said you were. Important. Special. - his Master
insisted - Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I know the truth. Because I know I'm not." Maul replied, knowing with
every fiber of his being that something bad was going to happen.
Darth Sidious stopped in front of him, crowding him and making him wish that he
could scoot away.
"That is correct. - he declared sweetly - You are nothing. That is what you
will ever be until I say so." he added with a growl.
His Master's hand was cold as it clamped the back of his head, fingernails
digging into the sensitive skin. Maul repressed a cry, his mind going blank in
horror as the dark robes covering the older man parted, revealing the pale,
cold flesh underneath.
Again, the part of him that knew he was dreaming, or remembering, or a mixture
of both, tried to tear itself away from the stream of images, to crawl back to
consciousness, but it was as if something was holding him in place, not unlike
Sidious' hand, forcing him to take it all, without hope of escape.
In the dream, his younger self knew that years had passed since the last time
his Master had required that service of him. At first he had been terrified
that the sudden lack of interest meant that he was going to be replaced with
someone else, then... then he had been relieved, incredibly so, he had grown to
hope that it would never be required of him again. He had been wrong.
He did as told, he had no other option, and as the never truly forgotten sense
of revulsion grew in him, his only consolation was that it would be over soon,
it always was. He only had to endure it for a while, and then he'd be released
from that duty.
He ignored the sound of heavy breathing coming from above his head and the pain
coming from his abused scalp, and let his mind go where it usually went when
such things happened, somewhere far away, where no one could reach him.
He wouldn't think of the girls. He wouldn't sully those memories like that, he
vowed.
"Enough!" Sidious ordered after a few moments, yanking his head backwards and
pushing him to the floor. Maul unbalanced and fell on his back, closing his
eyes to avoid even trying to look under the man's hood.
"Undress!" Darth Sidious ordered.
Nearly trembling, Maul picked himself up and shed his clothes, then knelt on
the ground again. His Master's regard made his skin crawl. It made him want to
hide in a hole somewhere and never come out. He could feel Darth Sidious
circling again around him, like a big carrion bird, trying to find signs of
weakness in him, trying to find hints of rebellion.
It was the anticipation of pain that always got to him, and when finally his
Master got to the point of actually doing the deed, he felt almost relieved.
It did hurt, it always did, but pain he knew how to handle.
Some of the children he had briefly met during his Master's tests when he was
younger had told him that their masters liked it better when they cried, or
when they pretended to feel pleasure. Darth Sidious did neither. He liked to
know that he was hurting, but was able to stand the pain, so he bit his lip and
forced himself to be quiet, not to let a single whimper, or a cry, escape him.
Mercifully, it was over soon and his Master withdrew with a rustle of robes.
Maul willed himself not to heave at the sensation of liquid dripping down his
legs and waited for the order to clean up and dress, but it didn't come.
Darth Sidious had started circling again and it made both his hearts race in
anxiety. What else did he have in store for the night? What more would he be
forced to endure?
"What did I tell you about attachment?" Darth Sidious asked. His anxiety grew
almost to full-blown panic, but he forced himself to stay calm and think on his
feet.
"That it is a weakness, my Master. - he replied dutifully, and his voice didn't
even tremble -That it is an obstacle on the way to absolute power and freedom."
he added.
"Good, initiate. Go on..." Darth Sidious encouraged him, stopping again close
to him.
"That there is no difference between things and people. - Maul continued,
feeling a strange dread fill him - That both should be used to further one's
goals and then discarded when no further advantage can be gained from them." he
concluded, hoping that he had remembered the words exactly.
"This is also correct, initiate. - Darth Sidious announced - You seem to have
learned your lessons very well." he commented. He started pacing again, back
and forth in front of him, then suddenly stopped.
"What about your two little friends then? How do you explain that?" he asked,
almost solicitous.
Maul's hearts started beating so hard that they hurt.
He knew! He knew!
"I... I was just exploring sexual experiences, Master. - he lied, improvising
on the fly - They were physically appealing and available. It was just sensual
passion, nothing more." he explained, hoping that he would fall for the bait.
"I see... - Darth Sidious commented - So it was just an experiment."
"Yes, Master. - he promptly agreed - They were means to an end. They meant
nothing more to me." he lied as confidently as he could. He had to take his
Master off their scent, so that they would be safe.
"That's good to know." Darth Sidious declared genially and for a moment Maul
allowed himself to feel a bit of relief.
"I think you have learned everything you could from this Academy, initiate. -
he continued - It is time for your training to progress beyond that." he
announced.
Maul nearly raised his head at those words. "T-thank you Master. I'll do well
in my finals tomorrow. You'll be proud of me." he promised.
He could hear Darth Sidious snigger at his words, a cold, grating laugh that
cut deep under the skin.
"There will be no finals tomorrow. - he announced - I have no further use of
Trezza and his Academy, and the Faleen knows far too much about us for safety."
he explained.
"I will kill him for you, my Master." Maul offered gladly. He had never liked
the headmaster anyway, even if he was Kilindi's adoptive father.
"Yes, you will. - his Master agreed - Along with everyone else at the Academy,
including your two little whores."
This time Maul did look up, his soul nearly boiling with anger, confusion and
anguish.
Darth Sidious back-handed him across the face and Force-pushed him to the
ground.
"Yes, them too, boy. - he repeated between gritted teeth - The Galaxy is full
of little tarts like them for you to rut with. You have no further use for
them. Show me that you have learned your lesson about attachment." he ordered.
Maul froze in horror, unable to move or speak, or even think. A voice inside
his mind was howling a litany of "No!".
He could not. Anything else, anyone else, but not that! Not them!
"You will kill them. - Darth Sidious repeated - Do I have to show you how it is
done, initiate?" he asked sweetly, using the Force to lift him up from the
ground by the throat.
"No..." Maul managed to gasp, uselessly grabbing at thin air in an effort to
relieve the pressure.
"I could, yes... - his Master continued as if he had not heard him - Maybe I
should. It is high time that you learned the finer points of enhanced
interrogation... I am sure that I could have a great time demonstrating them on
your little tarts." he added, his voice dripping honey, his Force flaring
hungrily.
Maul shook his head even more frantically. He had heard the screams coming from
his Master's "interrogation suite" before. They lasted for days, more
desperate, less coherent as the time passed, until they finally stopped, once
and for all.
Disposing of the barely recognizable corpses had always been his chore since he
could remember. His Master had wanted him to learn as soon as possible that
sentients were nothing more than a thin veneer of self-importance and self-
consciousness, layered on a bag of meat and entrails, and that they could be
easily reduced to just that: meat.
The idea of letting his Master do something like that to Kilindi and Daleen
made him retch. Sour, bitter bile filled his mouth, but he forced himself to
swallow it back, coughing and struggling to breathe.
"No! Master, please! - he croaked pitifully - Let me do this! Let me kill them!
I beg you!" he added, frantically trying to break free.
Finally his Master's telekinetic grip on his throat was released, and he fell
to the ground in a coughing, heaving heap.
"Agreed. - Sidious condescended - Get up and get dressed, initiate. You don't
have much time before dawn. I want them all dead before sunrise."
"Yes, Master." he replied with a hint of relief, bowing before him.
He picked himself up, wincing at the pain shooting through him as he stood, and
collected his clothes, hurrying to the showers. Hopefully, by the time he got
back to the Academy, Kilindi and Daleen would already be halfway across the
Galaxy.
Dressed all in black, with his hood pulled up to cover his head, Maul could
slink from shadow to shadow unseen, as if he was made of darkness too.
He slipped inside the boys' dorms quietly. Everyone was still sleeping.
Maul had packed for bear, carrying as many knives he could stash on his person,
a garrote and Two-Braids' swords.
He pulled out one of the knives and went from bed to bed, snuffing the lives of
the students like so many candles, trying to forget that they were people he
knew, that some of the youngest ones were barely thirteen, that they had
families waiting for them at home, that they had their entire lives before
them.
Nothing of that mattered a whit. They were in the wrong place at the wrong
time, and his Master wanted them dead, that was all. The only thing he could do
for them was to give them a quick, relatively painless death. A knife through
the gap between the fifth and sixth rib, or at the back of the head, where the
skull connected with the spine, or even through an eye, and they'll be gone
from the darkness of sleep to another, deeper one, without even knowing.
By the time he had finished with the dorms, his knife was glued to his glove
with congealed blood and his soul was numb with so much killing of defenseless,
innocent people.
He had killed before, killed to survive, in anger, in a fight, but never like
that, never in cold blood. It was much, much harder, and, while killing usually
filled him with joy and pride, this left him empty and hollow.
Thankfully, he had not found Daleen in the girls' dorm, but that didn't mean
anything. She had not slept there for months, ever since she had started dating
Kilindi, and all her stuff was in the older girl's room.
Krakko was also missing. Him, Maul sincerely hoped to find.
Maul moved in that direction, aiming to the bungalows of the instructors.
Killing them in their sleep was only marginally more difficult.
One woke up as he approached, and he had to throttle him before he could sound
the alarm, while another he ended up garroting as the man was taking an early
morning leak.
None of it gave him any satisfaction, and as he exited the last bungalow, he
forced himself to sneak in Kilindi's quarters.
The room was a mess, clothes were scattered everywhere as if they had been
packing in a hurry. He couldn't see any bags. It was a good sign, and he
allowed himself a breath of relief. If they were not there, he wouldn't have to
kill them.
Something tackled him to the ground, and stabbed him in the back, trying to
stick the knife between his vertebrae. Driven by instinct and training Maul
grabbed his aggressor by arm and collar and flipped them over his own head with
a lift and twist of his hips.
His aggressor fell on their back with a sharp cry and without even pausing to
think, Maul grabbed his knife and plunged it into their chest. They stilled
immediately, killed on the spot.
The flowing, hooded garment they were wearing obscured most of their figure,
but they were definitely too short and slight to be Krakko. Feeling a dreadful
sense of foreboding, he twitched the hood away from their head.
His knife slipped from nerveless fingers, clattering to the ground, and he
nearly tripped on his feet in the haste of running away from there. He ran
blindly, unknowing of where he was going. His whole body shook in horror.
He ended up on his knees in the grass between two bungalows, retching until he
had nothing left in his stomach to spew.
"Daleen...oh Daleen... why?!" he sobbed.
He had killed her. She was dead because of him.
It hurt. It hurt so much, deep in his soul.
Something clicked among the shrubbery. Maul was rolling away before he was even
consciously aware of moving. The blaster bolts intended for him tore pieces of
grass and soil from the ground, instead.
He was moving, the pain dulled by the immediacy of the confrontation. A Mando
emerged from the vegetation. Maul immediately recognized his armour and his
white-bread human face. It was Meltch Krakko.
He launched himself against the bastard, feeling an all-consuming rage fill him
completely, erasing anything else.
Krakko shot at him again, but he simply eluded the bolts and advanced, drawing
one of his swords. He cut off Krakko's hands just above the wrists. The blaster
fell on one side, Krakko on the other, screaming like a pig.
Maul kicked him and stomped on him, again and again, until his foot almost
hurt.
"It is your fault! It is your fault they are dead, you bastard!" he shouted,
even if he knew it was not true. Krakko might have precipitated the situation
to its breaking point, but the reason why everyone was dead was him. It was
because he had been enrolled at the Academy, because they had been in contact
with him. He had condemned them all without even knowing.
Finally Krakko stopped his screaming. The Mando's head had caved in on the
temple and his face was almost unrecognizable. Somehow it didn't seem enough.
He wished he had killed him even more slowly and painfully.
Buoyed by his fury, Maul ran towards Trezza's quarters. He was the only one
left, and the noise him and Krakko had made would have been enough to alert
him.
The Faleen, an experienced warrior with more than two hundred years of fighting
under his belt, was coming out of his bungalow when he got there. Trezza threw
a knife at him, but Maul could see it coming, as if it was flying through the
air in slow-motion. He caught it mid-air and returned the favour. The knife
embedded itself to the hilt in the Faleen's right eye, and he fell to the
ground like a sack of sweet-root.
"No!" someone screamed. A gun was triggered.
Maul was already spinning, another knife in his hand. He let fly as he turned,
and then he saw that the person he had thrown it at was Kilindi. He tried to
catch the knife in flight with the Force, to stop it or push it off-course, but
Kilindi's blaster bolt hit him in the upper chest close to his left shoulder,
tearing a cry from him and sending him sprawling to the ground.
Kilindi screamed too, high with surprise and pain. Maul fought to stand up
again, but his chest burned with pain and his left arm was mostly numb. He
gritted his teeth and crawled towards her instead, leaving a trail of blood in
the grass, like a snail.
The knife was embedded in her chest, her white tank top was already soaked with
dark green blood and more blood was bubbling at the corner of her mouth. She
tried to move away from him, to fight him, even though she was dying and she
knew. Maul lowered his hood, and she stopped thrashing. Her solid black eyes
filled with tears, but the ghost of a smile played on her lips.
"I am sorry... I am so sorry..." Maul cried, embracing her as best as he could
and holding her close to him. Tears burned in his eyes and he could barely
breathe around the constriction lodged in his throat. It wasn't supposed to end
like this.
He should have been able to save them!
"W-we should have... we should have listened to you. - Kilindi whispered - You
did try... to warn us away..."
"I didn't want to do this... - Maul sobbed - He left me no choice!"
Kilindi struggled to nod. "I know." she said, more blood welling from her
mouth. Her eyes closed and her breathing stopped for a moment, then restarted.
She had seconds left and there was nothing he could do to save her. He could
only hold her as she died, and feel as if a part of him was dying with her.
"I was so happy with you... I wanted it to last forever." he confessed.
"I loved you too... we both did." Kilindi whispered, a hand rising to touch his
face and then falling. Her heart stopped beating, her eyes glassed over. She
was no more.
Maul felt a scream rise in his throat. He let it out. The pain was too great to
bear it in silence. It felt like both his hearts were tearing themselves apart,
like his soul was being crushed.
He screamed and cried, rocking Kilindi's body uselessly in his arms, until he
had no more tears to cry or voice to scream, but still the pain didn't go away.
It was still there, still as strong. He didn't know how to stop it, he didn't
know what to do with himself.
He wished he could just die and follow them. He wished that he had never met
them, that he had never fallen in love with them, so that he would not know
that pain. He wished he had never existed at all in the first place.
Dawn rose, tinting the sky with the red of blood.
Maul carried Kilindi to their favourite spot in the Academy grounds, under a
flowering tree on a hill overlooking the beach.
Below, the Academy was burning with a smell of woodsmoke and barbecue. He had
gathered all corpses indoors and set every damned building on fire. There would
be nothing left of what Trezza had built.
Maul used the Force to dig a hole in the ground, and gently laid the girl down
in the embrace of the earth.
Daleen he laid to rest next to her, as if they were sleeping. They would be
together forever.
He covered them with the loose earth he had dug out of the hole and laid on
their tomb, wishing he could be down there with them, forever free from pain.
He understood now what lesson his Master had wanted to teach him. Feeling
anything for other people was a weakness, and those he cared for could be used
as weapons against him, to inflict pain in the worst way, a pain that would not
heal.
Oh, he never wanted to feel a pain like that again. Dying would be better. He
would have to live like that instead, hurting without respite.
He didn't know if he could do it. It was too much.
He had never wanted any of this, nor love, nor pain!
There had to be a way to get rid of it, of burying Khameir together with
Kilindi and Daleen, and to let Maul go on with his life.
There was indeed. He pushed all his memories of the girls, all the pain, and
all the happiness too, to one dark corner of his mind, and sealed it with the
strongest shield he could throw up, and it was all gone, buried inside him as
deeply as if his mind was a tomb.
Khameir, who had laughed and loved, was no more. He had killed him as surely as
he had killed Kilindi and Daleen. Only Maul was left, his heart empty and numb.
In his hospital bed on Theed, Maul woke up with a strangled cry, his body
shaking and covered in sweat.
A blood-red dawn was rising out of the window. His eyes stung with unshed
tears. The pain he had forgotten for years was back, as fresh as if Kilindi and
Daleen had died just the day before.
That shield had been the only one to resist his illness, but the taste of ice-
cream and looma fruit had been enough to knock it down like a house of cards.
Everything came back to him in a rush.
He had felt nothing as he travelled back to Blackguard Gorge, nothing as he
knelt before his Master, announcing to him the success of his mission, and
nothing still when Darth Sidious finally called him his apprentice.
It took him months to start feeling anything but anger again.
The memories had been buried deep, but traces of them had remained.
Once a few years later, he had paid a prostitute for her services, a Togruta
woman who looked nothing at all like either of the girls he had cared for, but
it had felt so wrong, so vulgar and base, so different from what he knew deep
down that it could be, that he had given up sex for good, deeming it an
undisciplined instinct unworthy of a servant of the Dark Side.
He had tried to fortify himself against ever feeling a connection with another
being, but the capacity for it still dwelt in his heart. Nothing Sidious had
done to him had managed to kill it. He was not like him. He would never be.
He had felt protective of Eogan, he had felt attraction for Komari. He would
have wanted to train the kid, to be his mentor him, and he would have taken up
Komari's offer of closeness and company, but he knew that if he had, Sidious
would have known and would have taken them away from him.
He had let them go. It had been wise, at the time.
But Obi-Wan... he had let him come close, closer than anyone else had been.
Sidious was gone, he would not take his little Padawan away from him. All his
teachings had been lies. He was free to care and be cared for.
"There is no need for anyone to take him from you..." a voice inside of him
said, instead. For some reason it sounded like the voice of Sidious.
"Obi-Wan will leave on his own, once he knows what you have done, once he knows
that you have bent to the will of your Master and killed all those people in
cold blood, once he realises that you have not been able to fight for the
people you said you cared for..." the voice said, and Maul found himself unable
to find fault in its reasoning.
He had failed Kilindi and Daleen.
He had seen no way out at the time, he had tried his best, but it had not been
enough and he was sure it would not be enough for the people out there who
would judge him. They would see an assassin, someone who spoke of love with the
blood of his loved ones staining his hands. All his efforts to keep the girls
safe, all his remorse, none of it would offset the enormity of what he had
done.
Obi-Wan would walk away, he would abandon him like everyone else had done
before. Not even the name of the Older Master, delivered to him on a silver
platter would be enough to convince him to stay.
"No!" he growled under his breath, shaking his head as if to clear it.
Obi-Wan knew what his life had been. He knew what Sidious had done to him, over
and over, to make him unable to disobey. He would understand that he had tried
his hardest, that he had done his best to save them, that he had truly cared
for them.
Obi-Wan would not abandon him. He had promised, and Maul believed it that
promise.
Sidious would not ruin his life again. This time it would be different.
"Are you so sure?" the voice insinuated again.
"He knows far too much. Do you really think he will be left to live in peace
when others have been killed for far less?" the voice continued, and, much to
his own chagrin, that also made sense, in a way.
Except that Obi-Wan was out of Sidious' reach. He was a Jedi, and that bastard
would not risk going against the entire Temple yet just to target him.
"Ah, yes, but he is not at the Temple yet, is he? Things can be arranged, as
they have been arranged before. - the voice suggested - And the nice doctor?
She has no protection."
"She has Obi-Wan, Fisto, and even me." he thought.
"This is cute. - the voice taunted - They cannot protect anyone. You cannot
protect anyone." it said coldly.
"I will fight nonetheless." Maul retorted, feeling increasingly angry at
whatever part of himself was being such a dick. His inner Sidious did a very
good impression of the real one.
"I don't care about the risks. - he thought, trying to push the other voice
away - I will do whatever it takes. I care for them."
Sidious would have to go over his dead body to touch them.
"That can be arranged as well. -the voice said - But I think they will die
before you do. You will watch them die and know despair. Exactly like you
watched your two whores die..." the voice whispered and an alarm bell rang in
his head.
No part of him would have ever called Kilindi and Daleen "whores".
That could only mean one thing...
"You!" Maul thought. Panic flooded him and he was nearly overtaken by a bout of
nausea. He was in there! Sidious was talking in his head! How was it even
possible?!
"What are you doing in there?! - he asked, trying to regain control of himself
- You have sent me to die and forsaken me! What else do you want from me?!"
"Your actual death would be a good start. -Sidious replied in his mind - Were
you so naive to think that I would let you betray me? Did you really think you
could ever be free of me? I am disappointed. I thought I had trained you better
than that..."he said, his voice dripping contempt. In spite of himself, Maul
cringed, waiting for the beating to happen.
Yes, Sidious had trained him to fear and obey him, and even as he wanted to
fight him, part of him knew that it would be futile. It had always been so,
since he was a child. He had no hope of prevailing.
"Let me set the record straight for you, apprentice. -Sidious continued, almost
sweetly -You are mine. You will always be. I own everything you are." he added,
and his presence, until then confined to a corner of his mindscape, started to
advance, tearing through his memories.
Maul repressed a scream of terror and frantically tried to get away from him,
to push him out, but his mind was full of how he couldn't resist, of how
stronger Sidious was than him, and those memories made the fight even harder.
Part of him only wanted to give up and hope that it would be over soon.
Sidious slithered slowly, savouring his terror and despair, but with purpose.
Maul could feel him advance towards those bits of memories that shone brighter
with whatever glimpse of happiness he had manage to scrounge, towards those
memories that he had always striven to keep secret like buried treasures: his
days with Kilindi and Daleen, fighting alongside Viscus and the Sisters, Eogan
and Komari, watching bolo-ball with Doc and then Obi-Wan... lots of Obi-Wan.
His smile, how his eyes shone like lightsaber crystals when he got serious and
determined, his voice, his scent... and then the shining link that bound them,
now all but closed.
He couldn't let Sidious get there, he couldn't let him soil it all with his
presence and use those memories against him and against them.
People were not like things to him. It was a lie. He didn't mind killing his
enemies, but he cared for some people, and he would not let them come to harm.
"Get out! - he screamed in his mind, furious that he could have even thought if
letting him have his way - GET OUT!" He pushed, pushed as hard as he could, and
Sidious gave way, surprised by his resistance.
"Do you really think that you can push me out, apprentice?"Sidious asked,
trying to sound menacing, but he could hear the strain in his mental voice, he
could hear it getting quieter and quieter in the distance.
"I know I can." Maul bluffed, feigning far more confidence than he actually
felt.
"Do you really think that you can keep me out forever? " Sidious hissed,
furious because he was losing his grip.
"I can keep you out for long enough!" Maul growled, and with a final push
Sidious' voice disappeared, but now that he knew what to look for, he could
just barely make out a connection between them, a twisted version of the link
that bound him and Obi-Wan. A wave of disgust rolled over him.
Sidious had access to his mind through the Dark Side. He would never be free of
him, he would never be safe until that thing was still in his mind. Obi-Wan and
the others would never be safe either.
He tried to cut it, but it slipped away, like something slick and only
partially solid. It was anchored deep in his mind. He couldn't tear it out, and
through it, Sidious could get from him to Obi-Wan, poison his mind, twist him,
break him and steal all his secrets.
It was unacceptable. There must be something he could do.
It turned out that the only thing he could actually do to prevent Sidious from
breaking in again, was to seal himself off with the strongest shields he could
manage, one to separate Sidious from him, the other to protect the access to
Obi-Wan's mind. Sidious would literally have to go through him to harm his
little Padawan. It was not a perfect solution, but he had no other choice.
Alone in his own mind, separated also from Obi-Wan after so much time spent
being so close to him, Maul felt isolated and lonely, but proud of having
managed to stand his ground against Sidious. It would not hold forever, but it
would be enough to buy them a bit of time.
The shields would keep Sidious busy for a while on the psychic front, but that
wasn't the only board where the game could be played.
Obi-Wan, Doc and the others needed to be kept safe in a more physical sense.
They needed to go back to the Temple, and soon. As soon as possible, ideally.
Sidious could have already sent killers after them.
But he couldn't go to the Temple, not while Sidious could get into his mind and
use him as source of information or worse. He was too much of a liability for
them. He didn't really care about the Jedi Order, but they were the only ones
who could protect the people he had grown to care for, so he had now a vested
interest in their continued survival.
No, he couldn't go with them, and Obi-Wan wouldn't leave him behind no matter
what. He had promised, and, gods, he didn't want to leave him either, but if
the other option was to risk seeing him die for his fault, he would run to the
other side of the Galaxy in a pinch.
Yes, that was what he would do! He would play decoy, drag Sidious and his
assassins along with him for as long as he could, so that he could give the
others time to find the Lord of the Sith and bring him low.
It was the best plan he could formulate on such a short notice, but it seemed
workable enough. He was healed enough to move, his ship was close by and he was
under minimal surveillance. Things would never be so easy again.
He had to act immediately, but first he had to find a way to give Obi-Wan the
information he needed to start his search.
Blinking to clear his vision from tears and confusion, Maul turned towards the
HoloNet equipment once more.
He'd send him an encrypted message. That was his best bet.
Quickly and silently, knowing that he had little time left before Obi-Wan
realised that the link was interrupted, he accessed the datastreams he had
found the previous night and copied all the information he needed about Hego
Damask, adding the bits required to explain why the deceased banker had been in
fact the Old Sith Master, then hastily drafted a profile of Sidious, throwing
together all the relevant information he could: estimated age, species,
ethnicity, connections, known lairs, everything he could remember.
Both documents he encrypted with a quantic algorithm, impossible to decrypt
without the password used to generate it. It was one of his favourite tricks,
one that even Sidious would be unable to counter.
While the algorithm happily crunched numbers, Maul opened a temporary messaging
address, using one of the few services left over from the latest crunch on
HoloNet security.
Now it was only a matter of letting Obi-Wan know what the encryption password
was. He had never written a personal message to anyone before, he'd have to
improvise.
After a few false starts, the message was written. It was short and a bit
stiff, but Maul didn't really know how to express all the feeling that were
churning in his mind.
"Greetings, my nemesis, -it read -
If you are reading this message, it means that I am long gone. I wish I didn't
have to, but I have no choice.
What you need to finish the job is in here. Your people will be able to help.
You have shown me that I can be more than a slave.
If you want to know why I am doing this, the answer is: you."
Hopefully Obi-Wan would be able to decipher the hints to the password the
message contained.
The algorithm completed the encryption just as he had finished writing. Mauk
attached the encrypted documents and sent the message, just in the nick of
time, as he started hearing noise coming from the nurse's quarters next door.
Obi-Wan was waking up.
Maul hastily closed the messaging client and shut down the HoloNet, then lay
back down on the bed, trying to calm down and slow the furious beating of his
hearts.
Obi-Wan emerged from his room dressed in surgical greens and barefoot, his
reddish hair tousled by sleep and an expression of worry on his face.
It felt weird and wrong to have to rely on his expression and posture to know
what he was feeling, not to feel it reverberate in his own mind.
Obi-Wan looked towards him and his expression smoothed out in relief. He smiled
and reached out to him, and immediately Maul felt the temptation to let him in,
to let his warmth comfort him, but he couldn't risk it. He had to resist and go
through with the plan.
He had to keep Obi-Wan away from him, if he wanted to make his escape.
"This is going to be hard..." he thought.
***** Wounded Beasts *****
Chapter Notes
     As I already said on FF.net, the last episode of Rebels sucked real
     hard, even more because Filoni admitted in an interview that they had
     something else in mind (something more epic, significant and in-
     character) that they didn't manage to do, so they had to tie up loose
     ends somehow.
     What a shame... This is why we write fanfiction.
     Anyway, this is not massively long, but I hope it is consolation
     enough: more drama is on the way as Maul tries to do the selfless
     thing and defy Sidious.
     Warnings: angst, language, mentions of abuse (in a very generic and
     theoretic sense), mentions of murder, mentions of animal abuse (dog-
     baiting - very generic and mild).
     Possible Spoilers from: Darth Maul Shadow Hunter (novel).
Obi-Wan awoke to a sudden feeling of emptiness. He had been sensing turmoil and
confusion over the link for quite a while, but now the link was suddenly gone,
blocked or severed from Maul's side.
A cold feeling of fear washed over him, banishing the last traces of sleep and
filling him with a desperate need for re-establishing that contact, for feeling
him alive and well on the other side of the link.
Doc had deemed him out of the woods after the fever had broken, but maybe they
had been too hasty in assuming that everything would be OK from then on.
He shouldn't have left him alone for so long, Obi-Wan chided himself.
He jumped off the bed and threw some clothes on, surgical greens Doc had left
for him when she had sent his Jedi uniform to the laundry, then shot out of the
room, his heart racing.
Pale pre-dawn ligh was filtering into the main room and a very much alive and
awake Maul was staring out of the window with a wistful expression. He had even
managed to raise the bed enough to be almost sitting up. Obi-Wan felt almost
weak with relief.
Maul was alive.
He might be having a depressive episode, abuse survivors were likely to suffer
from them, but it was nothing that could not be resolved in due time. Nothing
that couldn't be fixed, with care and patience.
Nothing like the gut-wrenching emptiness that had filled him at the mere idea
of losing his charge.
"Hi. - he greeted - I... Are you feeling alright?" he asked awkwardly, still
standing on the threshold to give him more space.
There was a long moment of silence and just as Obi-Wan was going to come closer
or speak again, Maul finally replied.
"It just dawned on me that my life is over." he said quietly and tonelessly,
without turning towards the Jedi.
"Has something bad happened while I was away?" Obi-Wan asked gently, taking
another step towards the bed.
Maul shook his head, a twisted half-smile on his face.
"Something bad has happened while you were here. - he replied - I have grown
accustomed to having you near. I have grown to crave your closeness and your
comfort. And now I need to re-learn to live without either." he concluded.
"Do you? Why should you?"Obi-Wan asked, frowning in perplexity.
"I am nearly restored. - Maul retorted almost as a non sequitur - Soon we will
leave for your beloved Jedi Temple." he explained, his voice heavy with
sarcasm.
"So what?" Obi-Wan objected.
Maul rolled his eyes.
"Do you think I am stupid? Or are you really so naive? - he asked, harsh and
angry - Do you really think your superiors will let you share your Force and
your thoughts with me like this forever? How long do you think it will take for
them to stick me in a Force-inhibiting cage, after they have obtained what they
want from me?" he continued, barely raising his voice above his usual quiet
tone, but infusing it with enough anger to make Obi-Wan almost flinch.
"They would not. I have told them about you, I have told them that you are
different. - he replied, with far more certainty than he had himself,
considering Master Windu's reaction and subsequent conduct - They won't harm
you. They want you to make it as much as I do. Let me show you." he tried to
reassure him, gently probing with his Force to see if his charge would let him
in again.
"You know nothing! - Maul exploded, slapping his Force away so hard that Obi-
Wan could not help but flinch - You might have let yourself care about me, and
you might have convinced Fisto well enough to watch and wait, but the Jedi
Order doesn't give two shits if I live or die! They only pretend that they
care, those Force-damned Jedi! You can even fool yourself into believing that
they do, but I won't be fooled! I am the enemy, to them, I will always be. I am
just something to be exploited and then locked away and forgotten!" he
continued, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"This is not true and even if it were, I wouldn't let them! I really care for
you. - Obi-Wan said - Look inside me, and you'll see the truth." he added
quietly and threw his mental shields open wide, reaching out again.
"Stay out of my head!" Maul hissed, shoving him away even harder than before.
It was the first time Obi-Wan had seen him look truly scared. There was anger
in his eyes, but mostly fear and Obi-Wan knew he had overstepped the bounds.
After being so used to commune with him, Maul's rejection hurt, but he tried to
ignore it and retreated more, withdrawing all the way into himself. He should
have imagined this would happen. This was not about him, it was about the fact
that Maul wasn't in control of the situation. He was afraid of being used
again, and this time by the people he had always been trained to see as
enemies. He would need time to adjust before he could fully trust anyone beyond
him.
"I'm not not going to let anyone hurt you. - he said, raising his hand in a
gesture of conciliation - I want to help you."
"I don't want your help! And I don't want your pity either! - Maul shouted - I
won't be your pet project! I'm not some stray dog to rescue and tame. I
believed myself to be a Lord of the Sith, even though I was nothing but a lie.
I killed so many people that I don't even remember their faces. I might have
failed to kill your precious Master, but I didn't fail with that idiotic old
Twi'lek and his Padawan, down in the slums in Coruscant."
"So it was you..." Obi-Wan whispered, recalling how he had felt the disturbance
in the Force as Master Bondara and Darsha died.
"Yes. It was me. And believe me, it was the most fun I had before I stabbed
your your Master. - Maul declared, pointy teeth bared in a ferocious sneer - I
would have killed even you, without even blinking."
"You would have, I know. But would you now? You said it yourself: we are well
past that point now. - Obi-Wan asked patiently - I know there is more to you
than just a killer."
"You know nothing! - Maul repeated - That's what I'm meant to be, what I've
always been. To obey my Master and kill for him, this was my only purpose.
There is nothing else to me. I can't be rescued!" he shouted.
"You're wrong. There is still a bit of Light inside you. I know. I've seen it.
- Obi-Wan said softly - You can rise above what you've been made into. You can
fight him. You can be free. I will help you. I will be with you and never
forsake you. Please... please, let me in." he begged, tentatively extending his
hand and his Force towards him.
For a moment there was the faintest glimmer of hope in the Zabrak's yellow
eyes, but it was soon quashed.
"Get out." Maul ordered sitting up completely.
"I..." Obi-Wan started to speak, but Maul didn't let him.
"Get out!" the Darksider roared, and small objects flew all around the room in
a wash of Force.
Obi-Wan raised his hands in conciliation again and backed down slowly towards
the main door to the corridor.
"I'm going. I'm going. There is no need to get all worked up. - he said
cautiously - I'll be with Anakin, but I'll come back if you need me."
One of the books in the room flew towards his head. Obi-Wan got the message and
ducked out of the room.
He leaned his back against the closed door and breathed deeply, trying to calm
himself down.
Every single book he had read about abuse survivors and children soldiers, and
that would be a lot because he had scoured the Royal Naboo Library clean in his
quest for information, said that emotional outbursts like the one Maul had just
had were to be expected. He clearly felt out of his depth and disoriented and
the only way he had to cope was to lash out. He could endure a few shouts and
thrown objects, he told himself, silencing the small voice in his head that was
telling him that Maul was unsalvageable and not worth the effort. Calling it
quits was totally out of the question, no matter how much the rejection stung:
it was the panic talking, not him.
Heck, he hadn't even truly aimed at him with that book. Obi-Wan was sure that
Maul would have hit him, if his heart had truly been in it. That counted as an
almost positive sign, he told himself.
He would leave him his space and time to sort himself out. He was sure he'd be
in a better mood when he checked up on him later, he mused, shoving himself
away from the door and walking down the corridor.
That would give him time to spend with Anakin, at least, he thought, sighing
inwardly.
Walking down the corridors, Obi-Wan tried to focus on all the progress both of
his charges were making in order to calm down and achieve some kind of inner
peace, but as much as he tried, he was not in the best of moods and the chance
meeting with Master Kit Fisto in the corridors did nothing to assuage his
frayed emotions. The episode in the infirmary smacked too much of failure and
of all the objections moved by the Master for comfort.
To make things even worse, the Nautolan Jedi was strolling down the corridor
with his usual smile and bouncy step.
"Hey Kenobi! - he greeted - How's project Hug-a-Sith going? We could hear him
shout from halfway across the palace."
Obi-Wan repressed the impulse of telling him to sod off and greeted him
politely instead.
"Master Fisto... It is going as well as it can be expected, I would say. Some
things cannot be made better overnight, but I'm hopeful." he said politely, but
there was a tone of irritation to his voice.
"Hope is vital in this Universe, but make sure you remember to call me if
things get too out of hand." Fisto said, giving him a stern look.
"He's just got out of a three-week coma and is confined to a hospital bed. I
highly doubt that would be necessary." Obi-Wan replied, biting his toungue to
prevent himself from adding that it had been him to put Maul in hospital in the
first place and if need be he could defeat him again.
"Goodbye, Master." he added finally, resuming his path.
"I knew a man once. - Fisto said conversationally, stopping him with a hand on
the shoulder - He had rescued a fighting dog from a gang, an old beast, all
mangled and broken, and had brought it back to health. He kept it as a pet, but
the poor dog had seen and experienced too much, and one day it bit the man's
throat off in a fit of panic. Sometimes people have been through too much to
ever be truly rescued, Padawan." he advised, looking deep into Obi-Wan's eyes
with his own black ones.
"I'll keep that in mind, if ever the need arises." he replied dryly, shrugging
the green-skinned hand off.
He walked on and did not look back, fearing that be would say or do something
stupid if he spent a minute more with the Nautolan.
He couldn't stand the idea that Maul could not be helped, and that someone
might liken him to an animal.
The young Padawan pushed the thought aside and dipped into the Force to locate
Anakin.
His bright, beacon-like Force-signature had always been easy to spot, but after
so much time spent sensing Maul through the Force, he had discovered that
spotting other people had become easier as well.
At the moment, Anakin was somewhere down the corridor and then left, probably
in the gardens, and near him must be Padme, as usual. The kid seemed to be
feeling happy and at peace with his surroundings.
"At least someone is feeling fine today..." he thought wistfully and set out to
join them.
A bit of distraction would do him good.
***** The Hardest Part *****
Chapter Notes
     DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Star Wars in any
     shape or form. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £
     out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
     First of all, SRJ, I am really sorry about the offensive wording in
     Chapter 8. I have amended it already and the dialogue contains no
     more references to the characters' age. I hope my mistake hasn't
     irretrievably ruined the story for you.
     Second, sorry to the rest of you lot for leaving so much time between
     updates. Work and related adulting tasks have sucked all the energy
     out of me, so I couldn't even face opening the PC to update. I will
     try to keep a more regular schedule in the future. In the meantime,
     back to the story, in which, as you might have expected, the drama
     continues unabated.
     Warnings: angst, some blood, very minor violence (like, really minor)
     Enjoy!
As soon as the door closed shut behind Obi-Wan, Maul let himself collapse back
onto the pillow.
He felt like he was shaking all over from sheer stress, something that had
rarely happened to him before, but turning the Padawan away had been one of the
hardest things he had done in his admittely hard life, and it had taken all his
force of will to rebuff him when the Obi-Wan had reached out for him. Maul knew
he had hurt him, and even though he derived no satisfaction at all from that,
he knew that it had to be done, that there was no other way.
But oh, when that wounded expression had appeared on the Padawan's fair face,
the temptation to reach out, to call him back had been strong and undeniable.
He had nearly succumbed to the promise of comfort and to the siren call of
hope, which claimed that Obi-Wan could help him, that he didn't need to run.
He would not yield, though, he told himself. He could not afford it. He would
not cause the death of another being he cared for, not if he could help.
Sidious would not have Obi-Wan. The Padawan was his...
... yes, his, his nemesis, his equal, his to fight, his to kill, even...
... his even though this was the last time they would meet, and even though the
last words they shared were exchanged in anger.
"It was bound to happen, sooner or later." he told himself, as meagre
consolation. Sooner or later Obi-Wan would have realised to what depths of
horror he had sunk, he would would realise that he was flawed, too damaged to
change and become what the Padawan wanted him to be, and it would have been all
over anyway.
He did not know if he could endure Obi-Wan's disgust and reproach. Better to
have a relatively clean break, like this. With luck his Padawan would never
know what had happened to him.
He had to go, and he had do it quickly, before he succumbed fully to the
weakness that had become part of him him.
If Obi-Wan reached out for him again, if he spoke to him or touched him to
comfort, he did not know if he would be able to break away again.
This was the time. It was early morning and the corridors of the palace would
be mostly empty. He had sent Obi-Wan away, and Doc was not around either. He
had not made a full recovery yet, but Doc had been optimistic about his
recovery. It would have to do, and at any rate he didn't have to last a lot,
just enough to get Sidious off the backs of his people, just enough to let them
arrive at the Temple.
He was going to die, eventually, but he would make the time he had left count
as much as he could, he vowed.
Maul closed his eyes, breathing deeply and evenly to help himself focus. He
could do that.
He had escaped from Cog Hive 7, running away from a civilian building of which
he knew the layout would be as easy as a walk in the park.
First thing, the Force-damned tubes and sensors would have to go. If he removed
the ECG electrodes and the oxygen sensor, however, the terminal would send a
distress signal to the doctor on call or to Obi-Wan, or both.
Priorities, always priorities, Maul thought, struggling to get rid of the tape
holding the IV drip cannula in place on his left hand. He held the cannula
beteween his right thumb and forefinger and slowly pulled it out. A bit of
blood started dripping from the puncture, but he ignored it, raising the sheet
and having a look at the bandages around his midriff. They looked clean and dry
and there were no drainages.
Good, he thought. Time to get rid of the Force-damned catheter. At least no one
had taped that in place. Gently pulling the thin tube out (how bloody long was
that thing?!), he vowed to himself that if by any accident he survived, he
would do his best never to end up in hospital again. He let the blasted tube
fall to the ground and sighed in relief.
Time to deactivate the terminals. A small application of Force-lighting did the
trick, shorting the machine into uselessness. He had figured out how to flow
the Force in that shape only recently, when he had reached out in anger and
desperation to rescue Obi-Wan from the sinkhole.
"How ironic is that?!", he asked himself, laughing under his breath as he
detached the electrodes from his chest and wrists.
And now for the hardest part, he told himself, turning awkwardly in the bed to
dangle his bare legs from the side.
Maul pushed himself out of the bed, steeling himself against the vertigo that
was sure to come. His vision nearly blacked out and his ears filled with a
roaring noise, but he held on tight to the bed and the stand and managed to
remain upright until the wave of weakness passed.
Gingerly, he let go of both supports and took a step. He wobbled a bit, but at
least he could walk. Another small victory for him, he thought.
Now he needed clothes. There was no way he was going to run away buck naked as
he was.
The door to the nurse's room opened with a soft hiss under his touch. It
smelled like the Padawan, and he wished he did not know his smell well enough
to recognise it.
Obi-Wan's Jedi robes were folded onto a chair, slightly rumpled from use but
still reasonably clean. Maul picked them up and brought them close to his face.
They smelled mostly like fabric conditioner, but also a lot like him...
"Damn!" he thought, feeling his eyes sting.
He rubbed his face none too gently and quickly donned the robes. With the hood
up, most of his face would be hidden and few people would be observant enough
to notice that the clothes were slightly too long and slightly too tight across
the shoulders. The decision to take them had everything to do with tactical
considerations, he told himself. The fact that he liked the idea of having
something to remember him by had no bearing on his decision, he thought,
nodding wisely. Unfortunately, neither his mutilated sabre, nor Obi-Wan's were
anywhere to be seen. He would have to improvise.
His left hand was still bleeding, dripping fat drops of dark red blood on the
white floor of the ward. He bound it with a leftover piece of bandage and went
back to the main room of the ward.
He was crossing the floor to get out, when he became aware of a presence.
Switching to high alert, he ducked back in the nurse's room, just in time to
avoid detection.
The main door opened and the woman the Padawan had called Doc came in, taking
the scene with the empty bed, the bloodstains and the busted ECG machine with a
confused expression.
Her confusion, however lasted for a brief instant, before she moved to the
terminal, aiming for the alarm, but Maul had always been silent like a shadow
and now desperation made him fast like lightning too. He slipped behind her and
hit her in the back of the head with the heel of his hand, not as hard as he
could, but hard enough to render her unconscious. Doc folded to the floor, but
Maul held her up, protecting her from the fall.
He didn't want to hurt her. She had been kind to him, and he was doing this,
all of this, for her as well, to protect her from further harm.
Thankfully the chair which Obi-Wan had been using was close by. Maul dragged
Doc to it and arranged her in a sitting position as well as he could. A roll of
tape was close at hand. He wrapped it around her and the chair, sealing her
mouth with a strip of tape as well for good measure. It would not hold her
forever, but it would do for a while, he judged.
Doc was a tough woman, though, and she must have had regained consciousness at
some point as he was tying her up. When he looked at her face, her eyes were
open and on her face was painted a confused and hurt look, that quickly turned
to anger and disapproval.
He could almost hear her: "After all we have done for you..." she would
probably say, if she could.
"This is not how it seems. - Maul said, even though he should have darted out
of that door as quickly as possible - I didn't want to do any of this." he
tried to explain, but her expression didn't soften.
She had defended him, gone against Fisto for him, and this was how he repaid
her? It must feel like betrayal: painful and lonely.
"My Master has found me. He told me he would hurt you and Obi-Wan because of
me. - he continued - I won't let this happen again. This time I'm fighting him,
that's why I am leaving." he added, and this time her expression did change,
first to something like surprise, than to something like pleading.
"You don't have to do this..." she seemed to be trying to say.
"I don't want to... I would stay, if I could, but I have to, do you understand?
- Maul replied, continuing that one-sided dialogue - I am doing this because I
want to protect you. Please, Doc... don't tell Obi-Wan. I'd rather him think me
a traitor than risk his life for me again. He can't save me, this time. Don't
let him come after me. I don't want him to die because of me..." he pleaded,
feeling his eyes sting again.
Doc's eyes filled with tears too and she bowed her head down, averting her eyes
from him.
Maul wiped his face with an overly long sleeve and turned towards the door, but
again he hesitated with his hand on the switch. It didn't seem right to leave
like that.
"Tell Obi-Wan that I'll be forever grateful to him for everything he has done
for me. - he said quietly to the doctor, without turning towards her - Say
goodbye to him for me, Doc." he finished wistfully.
The door opened and he walked away without looking back.
The corridor of the hospital level was empty. Maul could feel some presences
inside the other wards, but as long as they remained behind their doors, they
were not his problem.
From what he remembered of the plans his Master had showed him, to get to the
main hangar he would have to take that corridor to the end and go down a few
levels and then into another corridor.
Thankfully Obi-Wan's Jedi robes allowed him to blend in without any problem. He
had forced himself to walked calmly, as if he was just taking an unhurried
stroll in the palace, even though he wanted to run away as fast as he could,
and, as expected, no one had looked at him twice. He had walked right next to
patrols of Royal Guards, close enough that he could touch them, and nothing had
happened, not even a hint of alarm.
It looked like luck was on his side, but as soon as he left the most densely
populated areas of the Palace, he quickened his pace and cloaked himself in the
emanations of the Force, so that he would be nearly invisible to all but the
most experienced Force-users. There was no way of telling if his luck would
hold, and it was always better to plan in advance for adversities.
He actually made nearly halfway to the hangar, before he sensed a strong Force-
presence coming from an intersection. It wasn't his Padawan, and this only left
Master Fisto.
"Damn and double damn!" he thought. A door to a room empty of Force-presence
was nearby and he lost no time in slinking into nearly tripped over a janitor
droid as he crossed the threshold.
Bloody droids, he thought with a grimace as the wound twinged and deactivated
the bloody lump of metal with some more Force-lightning before it could do
anything more than whirr in surprise. It was over in less than a handful of
seconds. None seemed to be the wiser and no alarm was sounded.
Maul sighed in relief. Hopefully the droid would not have been alarmed for
manumission. He had already precious little time before either of the Jedi
sensed that he was using the Dark Side, or someone happened on the bound and
gagged doctor.
Breathing slowly to calm himself down, he dropped most of the Force, stilled
his thoughts and lowered his vital signs, trying to blend in with the
environment. A few, quiet and tense minutes passed, then the presence turned
away, weakening as the Jedi Master moved in a different direction.
Maul allowed himself a sigh of relief and slinked out again, resuming his jog.
===============================================================================
Strapped to a chair in the isolation ward, doctor Sade Amidala was fuming with
rage.
The nerve of the boy was incredible! He had caught her completely by surprise
and overpowered her completely, as if she was nothing more than a helpless
child.
And now she was stuck fast to the bloody chair, while he was running around,
nowhere near fully healed. Whatever the hell was he thinking? And especially,
where did he think he was going?
If his Master had really found him, he had every reason to panic, but surely he
would realise that he had much better chances with them than striking off
alone, no?
But the poor boy had not been concerned with his own safety, only with theirs,
hers and Obi-Wan's, but even with the help of the Force and a Zabrak's natural
imperviety to pain, he would end up collapsing in pain and exhaustion before
long, and then, weakened and alone, how would he be able to fight against an
older, more experienced and clearly sadistic Sith?
He had said farewell like he knew he was going off to his own death, and
judging from what she had gleaned from his Master, it was a good hypothesis as
any. Well, she wasn't going to let that happen. Not a chance.
She had fought for him once already, now it was time to do it again.
Trying to relax on the chair, she forced herself to calm down by taking a few
deep breaths.
While her midi-chlorian count was a mere of 4000, she had spent ten years of
her life training in the use of the Force before the Jedi Council decided that
she was hopeless at it.
She had been, no mistake, but she had developed, over the course of the years,
a marked attitude to a single, mostly useless manifestation of the Force. Now,
at last it was going to prove vital.
Sade took one last deep breath and tapped into what little flow of Force she
could sense, using it in its entirety to project a wordless, but very loud,
distress signal which any Force-user and Force-sensitive would hear in the
whole building.
Hopefully it would be enough, she thought, slumping back against the chair in
exhaustion.
***** Making and Breaking It *****
Chapter Notes
     DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Star Wars in any
     shape or form. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £
     out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
     Maul's selfless mess continues, with more drama and more action and
     badass Doc.
     Warnings: violence, angst and sarcasm, as usual
     Enjoy!
The garden of the Royal Palace of Theed was something truly wonderful, Obi-Wan
had to admit. The early morning sun shone on a wealth of lusciousl plants and
glittered o the clear water of the ornamental moat, relfecting on the coloured
tiles of the rotunda, which depicted picturesque views of the planet and scenes
from it ancient and glorious history.
Obi-Wan was esconced on a stone bench under a high tree, nearly blending in
with the foliage in the surgical greens he was still wearing. He was not
supposed to wear them outside, actually, but had forgotten to change. The spat
he had had with Maul had affected him more than he was comfortable to admit.
Oblivious to his anxiety, which was preventing him from relaxing even in such
idyllic setting, Anakin and Padme were chattering away. Nothing of what they
were saying seemed very important to him, but they were so immersed in the
conversation that he could barely butt in.
Not that he really wanted to. He had just wanted to get away from that room and
the desperation that it held.
What if Maul was right? What if there was really no future for him in the Jedi
Order or anywhere in the Galaxy?
What if he was deluding himself and a life in prison was truly the only thing
Maul could expect from the remainder of his life?
Had the Jedi Elders spoken in half-truths just to appease him and obtain what
they wanted? Why would they?
Nothing made sense, nothing was easy to figure out in this quagmire of feelings
and sensations they had ended up into. Maybe he shouldn't have let the bond
between them run so deep and for so long, but after he had felt the terrible
loneliness inside him, he could not leave Maul alone any longer. He had wanted
that closeness too.
Maybe at the core all Force-users were starved for contact, for emotional and
physical closeness. He had been raised at the Temple since he was maybe three,
and while he had made some friends, everything had always been underscored by
the notion that they should not have any bonds to entangle them.
All friendships, even the deep ones, were somewhat impersonal and cold.
Everyone held back, afraid of forming a real, and therefore forbidden,
attachment. No one talked about their feelings and fears because they were not
supposed to have them, as they led to the Dark Side.
And there he was, finding a plug for that hole in his soul in the unlikeliest
of beings.
How pathetic was that?
He wished he could envy Anakin and Padme for their uncomplicated, even childish
relationship, but even that wistful feeling was denied him.
Obi-Wan sighed. He needed to stop this, he scolded himself, shaking his head.
He couldn't let that one episode of anger and insecurity plunge him into such
deep turmoil.
Everything would be better, he told himself, as soon as Maul calmed down a
little he would be able to make him see reason and he would keep on fighting
for his future and his freedom. There had to be a way.
A terrible, shrill and loud sound echoed inside him, brutally wrenching him
from his reflections. He clapped his hands on his ears to muffle it, but to no
avail. That sound was not coming through the air, but through the Force.
"What is this, Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked, screaming to make himself heard over the
din in his mind.
Even Padme looked distressed and was trying to plug her ears somehow. Was she a
latent Force-sensitive?
Obi-Wan had no time to delve on the subject at the moment: he was quite busy
trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. He extended his senses, profiting
from the newfound increase in his capacity and surveyed the area.
Ani shone bright beside him... Padme was barely there compared to him, but
definitely above average.. tens of dim human presences, a gungan here and
there... Master Fisto, quite distressed himself...
And then he found a little, none too bright presence pulsating angrily in time
with the sound. It felt familiar in more ways than one. It was like too-strong
caf at ungodly hours and the smell of bacta-ointment in the morning and light
on bouncing golden metal and dry laughter and company...
"Doc!" he exclaimed, shooting to his feet. Her signature came from the ward,
but Maul was nowhere to be seen. He should have known better than to leave him
alone after even if he had asked for it. Especially as he had asked for it. He
had no time to berate himself for his stupidity, though. He had to run and try
to solve the situation before anyone got hurt.
"What's up?" Anakin asked, clearly alarmed.
"Maul's trying to run for it." he replied.
The queen erupted in a not very queenly exclamation.
"The hangar! His ship has been towed there! - Anakin exclaimed - I'll raise the
alarm!" the boy said, shooting to his feet and trying to run.
Obi-Wan grabbed him by the collar. "Don't even think about it! He'll hurt you
without thinking twice if you confront him! - he exclaimed - You will come with
me."
"I'll raise the alarm and tell the guards to prevent his escape but not
confront him." Padme said. Obi-Wan nodded and the young woman ran swiftly to
the palace.
"Let's go!" Obi-Wan ordered and set off towards another entrance that would get
him closer to his target. He ran without turning to check whether the boy was
following him.
There was no need: Ani shone in the Force like a miniature sun, running right
behind him.
They reached the ward in record time, shoving everyone out of the way
unceremoniously but expediently.
Obi-Wan opened the door with a feeling of dread in his gut. No blood, was the
first thung he registered, feeling a wave of relief flood him.
Doc was strapped to the chair next to the empty bed, staring daggers at him.
He rushed to her side, working furiously to free her from the tape.
"He's gone. - was the first thing she said - He's going to fight that bastard."
Obi-Wan didn't have to ask who she meant. He had told Doc at least some of what
he knew, and she had figured most of the rest on her own anyway, and she shared
his opinion of Maul's Master.
"His ship is in the hangar." Obi-Wan told her.
"Even if he gets there and flies away, he'll collapse way before he can get
anywhere. - she repied, opening a compartment to retrieve a bulky bag - Bloody
stubborn Zabrak! Let's go!" she said and ran off before he could even open his
mouth. Obi-Wan followed her out, closely tailed by Ani. Hopefully they would
find and intercept him before Master Fisto did.
The sound, whatever it was, hit him with the force of a hammer and nearly made
him fall to his knees. Maul shored himself up on the wall and took a deep
breath.
Running in his present condition was much harder than anticipated. Even with
the painkillers still coursing through his veins, the pain had started to seep
through. He knew he was running out of time, especially now.
That sound could not be anything less than an alarm, and soon, despite his
efforts for secrecy, the whole place would be crawling with guards. Even if he
had any weapon, in his present condition he did not think he could take on many
at once. His only hope now was to run faster than they could block his path. If
they had any brain in their pitiful skulls, the first thing they would do would
be to close off the hangar.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he put in another burst of speed,
careening through the corridor and shouldering away a disoriented passer-by,
likely affected by the sound coming through the Force.
The physical alarm started to sound just a few moments later. Maul cursed
inwardly.
A door opened at the other end of the corridor as he was running towards it. A
tall Nautolan looked at him in utter bafflement.
Master Kit Fisto, again, Maul realised, and used a burst of Force to speed his
run. He stuck his hand in one of the pockets of Obi-Wan's robe, grabbed a
small, hard object, probably a data drive, and tossed it towards the Jedi,
distracting him, then jumped and grabbed the lintel of the door, swinging
himself and kicking him in the chest with both feet before he could react.
The Jedi fell backwards and Maul landed neatly on him, probably shattering a
few of the Nautolan's ribs in the process. He rolled away, landing beyond him
but facing his way.
The Jedi was still trying to get to his saber, and to his feet, but Maul would
have none of it. He kicked the lightsaber away from the Nautolan's enfeebled
grasp and kicked him hard on the side of the head for good measure.
Gasping in pain from his wound, Maul bent to retrieve the saber from the ground
and thumbed its activation button. A green blade emerged.
The thought of killing the Jedi passed briefly through his mind, probably a
conditioned reflex of his training, but he set it aside with little effort of
will. The poor man was just trying to defend the others, he didn't deserve to
die for him either.
Once he would have killed him without even thinking, but... but he had changed
now, so he just let him lie on the threshold and continued to run.
One of the lateral doors opened, letting out a very scared trooper, who fired
his blaster. Maul deflected the bolt with his borrowed lightsaber, blowing a
hole in the wall next to the trooper's head.
The trooper retreated but a few more came out and started firing at will.
One of the bolts clipped him on a shoulder, but the blaster must have been set
to stun, because it barely singed him, only making him stagger forward. He
followed the movement, throwing himself in a roll through the doorway to the
next section of the corridor. A quick swipe of saber melted through the control
panel, sealing the door in a closed position.
Panting and staggering now, the Zabrak raced towards the last door, the one
that led to the hangar and that was now closing slowly but inexorably. The
troopers were cowards, but they were no idiots, and had pressed some sort of
panic button that shut all the doors in that sector of the palace.
They wanted to trap him like an animal, but he would not let them, he vowed to
himself, accelerating again, forcing himself to ignore the pain.
His vision was blurring with the effort, but he managed to reach the door in
time and throw himself in a skid below the edge of the lowering steel panel. He
was in the hangar, alone and uncontested, and the Scimitar was there, as if
waiting for him.
Maul felt a certain fondness for the ship, which had served as means of
transport and accomodation for him in so many successful missions.
This would be the last time he rode it.
The control bracelet he had built for the ship and his bike was lying on a
bench nearby, half-dismantled. C-3PX also lay deactivated nearby.
Someone had had a spot of fun poking into his stuff, apparently, he thought
with a hint of irritation. Even if he would never have the occasion to repair
it, he collected the control nonetheless.
He would not leave nothing behind for others to take apart.
A hidden control panel lay on the side of the ship. He tapped in the activation
sequence an the ship started humming to life. He opened the landing bay and
dragged the droid inside. The engines would need a few moments to warm up for a
take-off.
He needed to stall for time.
He could feel the Obi-Wan approaching, with more Force-presences in tow, one of
which beacon-bright but young. He could hardly engage in hand-to-hand combat
with all of them, he told himself, pocketing the stolen lightsaber.
He opened a compartment in the cockpit and retrieved a blaster, then jumped off
the ship again. A few of the metal workbenches, turned over to offer the smooth
metal surfaces to the incoming blaster fire and positioned around the landing
bay of the Scimitar would serve as a temporary trench to return fire, at least
until the ship was ready to go.
Maul hunkered down and prayed the Force that he would make it.
***** Standoff *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
When he saw Master Fisto sprawled across a doorway, Obi-Wan felt a stab of
guilt and desperation tear at him.
"He's only unconscious." Doc said, checking his vitalsigns. Obi-Wan sighed in
relief.
"His saber's gone!" Anakin pointed out.
"Ow! That red-skinned bastard..." Master Fisto groaned, gingerly probing at his
head.
"He's going to the hangar. - Obi-Wan said - Can you walk?"
"With help..." the Nautolan replied.
"Help him, Doc. We need to get going. Meet you at the hangar!" he instructed
and pressed on, with Anakin coming in hot on his heels.
Maul had taken Fisto's saber, but had not killed him. He was just trying to get
away, because he thought it was the only way. He had not turned Dark again,
Obi-Wan repeated to himself for the umpteenth time since they had left the
infirmary.
If he could reach him before the Zabrak ran away to an almost certain death, it
could still possible to convince him to stay and accept their help.
Ahead, a group of Naboo soldiers were busy around a closed door.
Obi-Wan skidded to a halt. "What's going on?" he asked.
"The prisoner has melted through the controls. We can't open the door!" an
officer announced, kicking the door in sheer frustration.
"Let me through and stay out of the way." Obi-Wan ordered, activating his
lightsaber and plunging it into the steel panel. Struggling against the
viscosity of the melted metal, he cut a hole through the door and Force-pushed
the plug to the floor of the corridor resuming his run. The troopers swarmed
behind him, blasters at the ready.
"The hangar is behind the next door." informed an officer.
"Good! - he acquiesced - Hold fire until I order so. This can still be solved
without bloodshed." he instructed, pressing the button to open the door.
The event was greeted with a salvo of blaster fire from the hangar. The
troopers dived for cover and even Obi-Wan hit the floor.
"Hold fire!" he ordered the troopers.
"But, sir...!" the officer protested.
"No buts, hold your Force-damned fire until I tell you so!" Obi-Wan yelled.
The engines of the Maul's ship were already running, warming up for take-off.
He needed to find a way of dissuading him from his plan.
"Hold fire, Maul. It's me, Obi-Wan!" he yelled, pickig himself up from the
floor and standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing sir?! Stay down!" one of the officers yelled, trying to
drag him down and back behind the cover of the doorjambs. Obi-Wan ignored him
and ignored the part of him that was screaming along the same lines.
Maul would not shoot him down in cold blood. He would not harm him. He knew. He
had to trust him.
"Do what your trooper says, little Padawan! I'll shoot you if you come any
nearer, I swear!" Maul shouted from behind his improvised cover.
"You won't. We both know this." Obi-Wan retorted, taking another step closer to
the barricade.
Maul did not shoot.
"I know what you are trying to do. Doc has told me. - Obi-Wan pressed onwards -
He'll kill you. Don't waste your life like this, Maul, please..."
"Waste my life?! - Maul yelled - I have no life left to waste. I even lived
three weeks longer than I should have. Everything dies, little Padawan. It's
time to let me go." he added wistfully.
"Doc has told me what has happened. I know you're trying to help, but I can't
let you sacrifice yourself like this. It would be too cruel. He'll torture you
before he is done with you. - he protested - It's not the death you deserve.
You deserve a warrior's death, under the sun, with a saber in your hand." he
added, mimicking his earlier words.
"The universe is cruel, little Padawan, and I deserve nothing. You gave me
enough." Maul replied. He sounded awfully tired and resigned.
"Mercy is wasted on those like me." he added softly.
Obi-Wan felt like crying for him. He was so close... Was there really no way to
save him?
Why did the blasted Padawan have to make everything harder and more painful?
Maul asked himself, hitting the palm of a hand against the floor in
frustration.
He had been always ready to die, if that was his Master's wish. He knew that he
had to accept his punishment without resisting, however cruel it might be.
Remembering what had been meted out for minor transgressions, this time it
would be very inventive, prolonged and cruel, but he had to accept his fate.
He would die, but not in desperation, because now he had something good to hold
onto, no matter what happened, some happy thoughts to give him strength. There
was no other way. He could not escape his fate, but at least he wouldn't fail
another friend again. He knew he was doing the right thing, the only possible
thing, but the Padawan didn't understand.
"You don't have to go back. The Temple will give you protection. Please.." he
pleaded.
"You don't understand! - Maul yelled - He will kill you if he gets his hands on
you. He will kill you and Doc slowly, just because he can. This is the only way
to protect you!" he tried to explain, increasingly more desperate.
He did not want the his Padawan to die. He didn't want anyone else to suffer
for him. If he died now, at least two people in this cruel bloody universe
cared for him and would mourn him. His life would not have been totally empty.
"You cannot know this! - the Padawan retorted, sounding as desperate as he was
feeling - There has to be another solution. The Temple can help you!" he said.
Even if years of training screamed that it was not done, that it was totally
suicidal, Maul threw all caution to the wind and stood, ignoring the nausea
which was washing in waves over him and pointing his gun at the Padawan.
If the bloody troopers wanted to take pot shots at him, let them, at least he
would have resolved part of his predicament, but he wanted to look into the
Padawan's eyes as he spoke to him.
"There is not. He is in my bloody head and I cannot get him out. That's why I
blocked you out, even if that was the last thing I wanted. You'll never be safe
if I'm with you. - he yelled - He's done it before, he's taken away people I
cared for, and I... I can't let it happen again. I can't watch you die. I'd
rather die fighting him. I don't have a clue about what's right and what's
wrong for normal people, except that nearly everything I believed and stood for
until now is wrong and a lie. Peace is not a lie. Neither is compassion, but
beyond that? The only thing I know is that I care for you, and I will protect
you, even if it means I'll die, you bloody stubborn Jedi!" he added, tears
welling in his eyes.
"It doesn't have to be that way! - Obi-Wan protested - I will watch your back.
I will help you fight him. I can't let you fight and die alone. I promised
you'd never be alone again and I intend to stand by this promise." he declared,
nearly in tears.
When had he gotten so close?
Maul shook his head. "I never stood a chance, Obi-Wan, you can't save me. It's
only a matter of time before he breaks into my head again..." he said weakly,
struggling to stay on his feet and keep the gun level at the same time.
"You're right. I can't save you. - the Padawan said - Only you can save
yourself, but I can and I will help you. Please... Please, let me help you. We
can do this, if we are together. Remember in the tunnels? We made it together,
and it will be so again. Please, Maul... Please..." he said softly, tears
streaming down his cheeks.
He did care. He really did care and he didn't have the strength to refuse him
again, not when he was being so earnest and adamant, not when his Force shone
like a guide star, calling him more and more towards the Light.
"Please, Obi-Wan. .." Maul whispered, defeated but uplifted at the same time.
The blaster slipped from his hold seemingly of its own volition, clattering
loudly against the floor. His knees folded under him and hit the ground almost
in slow motion. Obi-Wan vaulted over the upturned tables and was beside him,
helping him sit down against the barricade.
It was too good to be true, it felt like a dream, like if he closed his eyes he
would wake up and none of this would be real.
He sent a tendril of Force towards Obi-Wan and he accepted it, restoring at
least partly the contact between them.
It was not exactly the same, now that he had to keep up the block around
Sidious at the same time, but it filled him with warmth and hope nonetheless.
Now he almost believed he could stand up to Sidious and drive him away for
good.
It was real then. Obi-Wan really cared about him, enough to fight for him even
if it didn't benefit him, enough to save him from himself. He would not be
abandoned or discarded again.
He was cared for and with Obi-Wan's help he might even be... free?
Even the word felt strange as he thought of it. He had never allowed himself to
think about it. Freedom was never something he had thought he would attain in
his life, but from where he was sitting now it looked good... Better than good
actually, he thought to himself.
He must have been smiling like an idiot, but Obi-Wan was smiling as well and it
did not seem silly at all.
"Are you feeling much pain, my lad?" Doc asked, materialising at the edge of
his vision with a concerned expression and a bag of medical equipment.
"I'm fine. - he replied, rather groggily - I overdid it a bit, I think."
"You stubborn, melodramatic bastard! - the medic said, good naturedly enough -
You could have gotten yourself killed! Don't do this again, OK?" she ordered.
He nodded slowly.
It should have irked him, to have Doc boss him around, but she was doing it
because, for some unknown reason, she also cared, so it was alright.
A few more faces appeared around: a blond child, which emanated the brightest
Force-presence he'd ever seen, a young human woman who was none other than the
Queen herself, and Master Kit Fisto, already back on his feet, more or less.
"I think you've got something of mine..." the Nautolan said, flopping to the
ground not far from him with a grimace of pain.
Maul hesitated. Giving a weapon to an enemy was a total idiocy, but if he
really wanted to go through with this... to take the chance at life that Obi-
Wan was offering him again, he needed to stop thinking of all and any Jedi as
an enemy.
He needed to trust this Nautolan not to skewer him as soon as the weapon had
changed hands, even if he was weak and unarmed. This was a test and he couldn't
avoid it.
He glanced at Obi-Wan and he smiled at him as if he knew would not fail.
He had to do that, he really did.
Repressing a sigh, Maul picked the saber from his pocket and held it out,
realising, to his chagrin, that he was bracing for an attack. Hardly a signal
of trust, he chided himself. He forced himself to relax and handed the saber to
the Jedi.
"Nice design... - he commented with a forced smile, trying to hide his
embarrassment - Works underwater, doesn't it?" he added, going for the aimless
chitchat.
"Uh... Yeah... It does actually..." the Jedi said, looking as confused and
embarrassed as him.
"Well, thanks for not offing me, dude. 'T was mighty nice of you." he added
after a pause.
Fighting against the impulse to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Maul
noded politely.
"Don't mention it. - he said - There was not a lot of point in killing you
after I had already defeated you." he added, grinning.
"It was just luck. - the Jedi protested, a darker green colouring his cheeks -
If the Force-whistle had not distracted me, you wouldn't have gotten past me,
kid!"
"In a battle, anything goes. - said Maul, trying to shrug as Doc strapped a
sensor to his right arm to measure some parameter or other - If you think you
can do better, we can give this another try after we are both back in shape."
he proposed, half-joking.
"Might take a while. You busted three of my ribs." the nautolan retorted,
grimacing.
"Must hurt like hell..." - he commnted idly - Doc here has some seriously
strong painkillers, at least. Good stuff."
"Yeah, - Obi-Wan chimed in - the kind that makes you see flying pink banthas
and all that stuff." he said smiling.
"Seriously, dude? - the nautolan asked, grinning - You should sell them on the
black market in Lower Coruscant,then, Sade. You'd get rich!"
Doc rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. The blond kid and the young woman
started sniggering quietly and Obi-Wan soon joined them.
Maul tried to control himself and stay serious, but even the Nautolan joined
in, so what was the point?
He laughed with them, happy to be alive.
"You won't be laughing so hard when you are staring cross-eyed at the ceiling
seeing fairies, my boys..." Doc said dryly, causing a fresh burst of hilarity.
Maul had never had so much fun without having killed anyone before.
If he made a small effort, he could see a different life in front of him, one
where he didn't have to look over his shoulder in fear of Sidious, one where he
didn't have to fear that everything good he had would be taken away, one where
scenes like these, minus the gunfight, were the norm and not one-of-a-kind.
He kind of looked forward to that.
The only thing that he had to do was trust Obi-Wan, and believe that together
they could defeat the seemingly omnipotent Sidious. It was quite scary, like
looking down from a great height before taking a leap to the other side of a
chasm, but it was so exhilarating...
It was a challenge: he would not back down again.
Chapter End Notes
     And now for even more drama, if this is even possible. Ready your
     tissues, folks!
     Warnings: angst, language, silly humour, drugs, very vague mentions
     of suicidal-like ideations, mentions of torture and abuse.
     Enjoy!
***** Defiance *****
Chapter Notes
     DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Star Wars in any
     shape or form. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £
     out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
     Hi folks, another chapter and nother cliffhanger for you. Things are
     never as easy as they seem with Sidious.
     Sorry for the horrifically long wait!
     Warnings: blood, mentions of sexual abuse (including of minors),
     mind-rape.
     Enjoy
"Did you really think I would let you escape so easily, my traitorous former
apprentice?" His Master's cold and raspy voice resonated through the Force
directly inside his head, bursting through his shield with little or no
warning.
Maul barely managed to eject Obi-Wan from his mind and out of the line of fire
before he was trapped there with Sidious, adrift and alone.
Few things could really scare Maul: his former Master's voice when it was full
of anger was the foremost of them. Memories of countless punishments and abuse
flooded through him, filling him with paralysing panic and the knowledge that
there was nothing he could do to avoid whatever he chose to do to him.
The pain came, inexhorable and excuciating and omnipervasive. It was as if
every nerve ending in his body was on fire and that his very soul was freezing,
all at the same time.
Distantly, he could hear himself screaming and he could hear the worried,
scared voices of the people who had been with him in the hangar.
Sidious was going to kill him, to take away all the possibilities that had
shone in front of him just a moment before, all the comfort and mercy, all the
laughter, all the peace, and then he was going to come for the others. It was
not fair, not now that he had a glimpse of a different life and had learned to
cherish it.
Even though he knew that he should just accept it, that to make things easier
for himself he should just relax and let it happen, he couldn't just roll over
and die.
He had to fight back, to make a stand, for once, however useless, to show his
former master that he was not just a tool, that he might kill him, and probably
would, but he did not own him any longer.
Trying to concentrate in spite of the agony, he made an effort to shove the
older Sith out of his mind once more. He did not belong there any longer, he
was sick of him!
"Do you try to defy me, pathetic excuse for an apprentice? I made you and I can
destroy you. You will cease to exist when I say so." the voice continued. More
dark power was shoved into him, hitting him harder than anything before. He
could taste blood, his own blood, filling his mouth and dripping down his nose,
but he kept on pushing.
"You don't own me any longer!" he screamed. He needed to keep on fighting, keep
on pushing if he wanted to have a chance to duel Obi-Wan again, to talk with
him and laugh with him and feel that wonderful warmth fill him again.
"I see... It is because of the Jedi, isn't it, you little, filthy whore? You
really are a bent decicred, my dear..." Darth Sidious whispered in a silken,
nearly affectionate tone. If his angry voice made him quiver in fear, this was
enough to make him feel cheap and dirty, to make him want to hide somewhere in
shame and disappear.
"I can feel him all over your mind... Did you let him fuck you already? Did you
go on your knees before him? I bet he already knows how much of a whore you
are..." the older Sith continued, his voice and presence slithering around
Maul's mind like a poisonous snake.
"Yeah, and you know what? He's a better lay than you ever were!" Maul shouted,
taking all the shame and the memories of feeling worthless and cheap and
pathetic, turning them into rage and hurling it at the man who had dictated his
life until then. Maul felt his surprise and confusion, felt him reel under the
assault and pressed on.
"Behold the mighty sword of the Sith! It looks like a shoto knife, compared to
the real thing! It only looked big because I was a child, you perverted old
man!" he taunted and with one last push, the grip Darth Sidious had on him
weakened and dissolved once again.
The pain abated, letting him breathe properly. He knew it was only temporary,
that Sidious would come back a third time, even more furious and even more
prepared, but he had scored a point and that was more than he had expected.
He was taking power from all the rage and hatred against his former master that
had always been there, buried deep inside him, but at the moment he didn't care
if it was a Dark thing, what mattered, the only thing that mattered, was that
there was plenty more of it to spare where it had come from. He would use it
with no remorse, fighting until he could fight no more.
If he had to go down, he would do so on his own terms. If that was the only
freedom he would ever taste, he would drink from that cup to the dredges.
The only other time Obi-Wan had felt so relieved, was when he had been
reassigned back to the Padawan training programme after his stint in the Agri-
Corps, under the tutelage of master Qui-Gon.
Maul was still there, he was staying for good. He had managed to trust him, and
by the Force, he would help him and never fail him.
His Force-presence felt comforting, mingled with his. He radiated hope and
happiness, uncontaminated by any negative emotion for once. It was so beutiful
to hear him banter with Doc and Master Fisto, to hear him laugh without a care.
Obi-Wan quietly slid his hand against Maul's and the former Sith squeezed it
briefly, giving him a warm sidelong glance. He probably shouldn't be feeling so
happy so soon knowing that Sidious was poised to destroy everything and that
they were not really safe yet, but he could not help it.
Obi-Wan was still immersed in his contemplations of joy, when the link between
him and Maul was suddenly severed.
He tumbled back in his own mind, hurt and confused. Shaking his head to clear
it, he turned towards the former Sith, ready to trade some sharp words with
him, but as soon as he looked at Maul he realised that there was something
majorly wrong with him. His yellow eyes were vacant and glassy and his
expression spoke of fear. His chest rose and fell rapidly in shallow intakes of
breath and his hand had grown ice-cold.
"Doc?! What...?" he stuttered, gripped by a sudden terror.
"He's having a seizure! -the doctor exclaimed - Get that table out of the way
and help him lie down!" she ordered.
Obi-Wan complied as fast as he could, shoving the heavy table out of the way
and rearranging Maul so that he was lying on one side in the safety position.
It was none to soon, as he started shaking and trembling all over.
"I thought the infection had been resolved! - Doc cried, rummaging in her bag
for a syringe - All parameters were normal!"
"Wait, Sade! - Kit Fisto chimed in, grabbing hold of her hand and staying it -
This is not an infection. There is a huge disturbance in the Force here."
Obi-Wan looked at him in confusion, then tried to find some peace and
concentrate.
It was harder than it had ever been, especially when Maul started screaming
hoarsely with each breath, arching and convulsing in pain, but there it was.
There was a strong Force-presence hovering around his charge, cold and dark and
cruel, trying to engulf him and smother him with its sheer power. Maul's Force-
presence was trapped within it, dimming like a fire that had consumed its fuel.
"He's trying to kill him!" Anakin exclaimed, scared and confused, watching the
whole scene in horrified fascination. Master Fisto nodded gravely.
"But it's not fair!" the boy protested. It was not fair, not at all. It was
cruel beyond imagination to do that just as Maul had started to hope, and Obi-
Wan had no idea about how to stop it. Tears welled up in his eyes and he felt a
wave of anger and hate rise inside him. He had always known abstractly that the
Sith Lords were his natural enemy, but this... This had now become personal, he
realised.
"I'm so sorry..." he thought, rubbing Maul's back in a pointless gesture of
comfort. The darkness was crushing him.
Bright red blood was flowing on his face as the pressure made small blood
vessels burst. Hopefully it would not be long, he thought.
And then Maul's Force-presence flared up, bright once again, momentarily
dispersing the darkness. It wrapped him back in its folds, but his fire had not
dimmed. It was growing. He was fighting it!
"Come on, you can do it!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, feeling a timid hope rising inside
him.
The fire rose higher and higher, brighter and brighter, piercing the darkness,
until, with a final push the dark presence was shoved away.
"By the Force, he made it!" Kit Fisto exclaimed in admiration.
Maul blinked and took a few deep, gasping breaths.
"He's found me again, Obi-Wan." he rasped hoarsely, grasping his hand like a
lifeline. There was no need to specify who "he" was.
"And you've chased him away again, you were brilliant!" Obi-Wan said, wiping
tears from his face with his free hand.
Maul managed a weak smile. "He's coming back and I'm exhausted. We don't have
much time." he said.
The darkness was still there, in fact, fleeting like a shadow. It was
regrouping for a second pass.
"Listen, Obi-Wan, I... I will fight him for as long as I can, but I don't know
how much longer I can last against him. You need to go to the Temple as fast as
you can, both you and Doc, before he can find you. - Maul said - I have left
you eveything I had on him and his master in an encrypted email. Make him pay,
Obi-Wan. Make him stop."
"Let me in, I can help you fight him. I can buy you more time. - Obi-Wan
proposed - If we can get to Master Yoda or one of the Elders, they may be able
to chase him off for good. This doesn't need to be the end." he added, thinking
as fast as he could.
Maul shook his head. "That's what he wants, for you to link up with me. He
wants to hurt you, break you, steal your secrets. I can't ask this of you." he
rasped.
"He won't be able to break me, if you help me. Together we can make it. You
know this." Obi-Wan declared assuredly.
"The risk is too high. Even if he doesn't manage to get you... If I die and
you're still linked to me... you may end up dying as well." Maul protested.
"I'll take my chances. - Obi-Wan replied, staring straight into the former
Sith's eyes - I won't stay here and watch you die without doing anything. Don't
do this to me, please..."
Maul tried to protest again, but Master Fisto interrupted him "I think that
trying to stall him a good idea. If we get your ship and fly as fast as we can,
we could be in Coruscant and in presence of the Elders in a couple of hours.
It's the best chance you've got." he said.
"He's trying to overload your system, if you spread the power by sharing it
with Obi-Wan you'll both last longer. It's simple physics." Doc butted in.
Maul hesitated for a moment. "It will still mean lots of pain. - he warned -
And it will not be easy anyway. Nothing is with Sidious."
"Are you OK with doing it?" Obi-Wan asked.
Maul hesitated again, then lowered his eyes. "I don't want to die... - he
admitted quietly, squeezing Obi-Wan's hand - But if the worst comes to the
worst, I'll shove you out." he declared firmly, raising his gaze again, yellow
eyes blazing.
"Deal." Obi-Wan accpeted, knowing that he would not desist. He was just so
stubborn...
"Let's get a move then, before that bastard comes back and I'm useless again. -
Maul said, trying to push himself up - Can you give me a hand up?" he asked.
"You're not serious about walking, right?" Obi-Wan asked with obviuos concern.
He had been falling over from exhaustion even before getting tortured.
"I am. - Maul replied forcefully - I can make it if you help me." He clearly
did not want so many people to see Obi-Wan carry him around like an invalid.
"I should have imagined this." thought the Padawan.
It was already great progress that he had actually asked for help, but showing
that much weakness in front of nearly complete strangers was still something he
could not be comfortable with. One thing at a time, Obi-Wan thought. He was not
going to ask for something that would not be freely given.
"Alright, on the count of three, then." Obi-Wan said, passing one arm around
Maul's waist and letting him rest his over his own shoulders.
"One.. two... and three!" he counted and they both pushed to hoist themselves
up. Maul was shaking so badly from exhaustion and the after-effects of torture
that he could barely hold himself up, but Obi-Wan supported him and after a few
moments he managed to find his balance.
Over the link he sensed a warm current of gratitude and relief, but if only he
concentrated he could also feel the pain Maul was feeling. To him it felt
decidedly uncomfortable, but for Maul it still felt manageable, which only
underscored what a bastard his former master had been.
"Let's go! - Obi-Wan instructed - Doc, you help Master Fisto. Anakin, you get
Doc's bag."
"And I order to my officer to open the dock." Padme chimed in for the first
time since the garden.
"Your Majesty... Thank you for your patience and help. I am sorry for...
well... pretty much everything." Maul rasped, looking down.
Padme sighed. "At least you didn't kill anyone. - she commented - Good luck and
may the Force be with you all. Look after Ani for me, will you, Obi-Wan?" she
asked pleadingly, sounding suddenly a young woman and not a queen at all.
"Of course I will." Obi-Wan acquiesced with a slight nod.
"I don't need looking after! I'm old enough to look after myself!" Anakin
protested, already halfway up the gangway even if he was lugging a bag which
was half as big as him.
Maul snickered under his breath, and nudged Obi-Wan towards the ship. The
Padawan rolled his eyes, but decided to ignore him and kept his silence as he
helped him negotiate the slope to the ship porthole.
"We'll get in touch when we are safe at the Temple." he called back from the
threshold.
The Queen waved goodbye as the hangar door opened, letting the wind blow in.
***** Last Stand *****
Chapter Notes
     DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Star Wars in any
     shape or form. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £
     out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
     Hi folks, sorry for the long delay in posting. Life got in the way
     and I lost a bit of motivation.
     I hope the conclusion to the story arc and to the battle with Sidious
     will make up for it.
     Warnings: emotional abuse, mentions of abuse, humiliation, mind-rape,
     language, minors driving without a licence, homophobia, slurs.
     Enjoy
"The green button on the left." Maul said. Obi-Wan blinked, startled. He had
been thinking about how to close the landing hatch, but he hadn't expected a
reply.
"You were thinking loudly."Maul explained.
Obi-Wan did as instructed and the hatch whirred into a locked position. The
ship was clearly high-spec and expensive, but it also looked very spartan on
the inside, all steel and white resin and sleek angles. Not homey at all, he
thought.
"Where to?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Left. The cockpit." Maul replied in a strained voice. He was so pale that his
face looked more orange than red.
Obi-Wan obeyed. The cockpit was quite big, with two seats as well as the
driver. Anakin was sitting in front of the command console, peering around the
various dials and levers.
"What?! - Maul exclaimed, nearly keeling over in shock - You can't be serious
about letting him drive! He's what, eight?" he yelled at Master Fisto, who was
sitting sprawled on one of the passengers' seats.
"I'm ten. - Anakin protested - And I used to be in professional podracing."
"Oh well, that solves it... Are you all fucking crazy?! - Maul exploded - Let
the Nautolan drive!"
"Eh, dude, wish I could. Got three busted ribs thanks to you. I can't even lift
my arms from the pain." Fisto replied groggily.
"And Doc pumped him full of stuff." Anakin completed, deadpan.
"It's alright, Maul. Ani can fly like a bird. - Obi-Wan said, trying to
transmit some calm throught the link - He was in the squadron that sank the
Neimodian flagship." he explained.
"Even got a medal." the boy confirmed, pointing to his chest.
Maul shook his head. "If you so much as scratch her..." he threatened, but
could not finish the sentence, as his knees gave way under him, nearly sending
them both sprawling to the floor.
"Where is your cabin?" Obi-Wan asked, doing his best to keep them both on their
feet.
"Down the corridor. First on the left." Maul replied.
It was only some ten paces, but they felt like ten miles before they got there.
The cabin was as spartan as the rest of the ship, but looked a bit more lived
in. There were blueprints and diagrams stuck to the shelving with adhesive
putty and bits of equipment and a book-pad on the desk. Doc had already
occupied the room, setting up a heartrate and oxymetry monitor and readying
other pieces of kit for emergencies.
Obi-Wan helped Maul to the cot, where he sank gratefully, exhaling a sigh,
sitting with his back against the metal wall, breathing hard. The berth was
bigger than he would have expected for such a stripped-down ship and he knew
that Maul had taken out some storage space to make it so. He had never slept
very soundly or peacefully and he had needed the extra space if he had not
wanted to hit his horns somewhere all the time.
Maul gave him a small, rueful smile. Obi-Wan replied with a smile of his own
and sat down next to him
"I need to put these on you, my lad, just in case..." Doc said , waving around
a brace of sensors.
Maul nodded. "Be my guest, but be quick. He's gaining strength."
Doc nodded in turn and quickly untied the various layers of his borrowed Jedi
robes, placing the sensors across his chest.
"All sorted. Good luck, my lads. May the Force be with you." she said,
retreating to the corridor to give them a bit of privacy.
The darkness was getting closer, making the atmosphere cloying and oppressive,
like a cloud of miasma. Obi-Wan felt a trickle of fear coming from the former
Sith.
"We can do it." he said, projecting calm and reassurance.
Maul took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Let's do it then." he said
decisively.
Obi-Wan helped him rearrange himself into the safety position and lay down next
to him in a specular position.
"Obi-Wan... He thinks that I... That we..." Maul said, profoundly embarrassed.
A brief flash passed through their bond, telling him everything he needed to
know.
"Ah. - Obi-Wan said, feeling his cheeks heat up - Seems like we have a jealous
old man... Do you want me to play along?"
"Would you be OK with this?" Maul asked, fully expecting for Obi-Wan to reject
him.
"It'll get him out of control. We can use the advantage." Obi-Wan replied,
squeezing Maul's bandaged hand gently.
Maul sighed in relief and opened the link wide on his side. Looking straight
into his red-ringed yellow eyes, Obi-Wan did the same.
Their thoughts mingled and he became aware of the twinging pain his ally was
feeling, of his trepidation and repressed fear. He had been so conditioned to
accept beatings and punishment from his master that even now he was fighting
against himself to find the strength to disobey. But Obi-Wan had no qualms
about fighting back. He would give him the strength and the support he needed
to win his freedom.
"I'm right beside you. You're not alone anymore. Just keep calm and we'll see
this through." he whispered.
His heart was full of some unnamed passion, but he wasn't afraid or ashamed of
it. He had made peace with his it. He controlled it, knew where it came from,
knew how to concentrate away from it.
Adrenalin pumped in his system, making him more aware of everything, making his
wits sharper, his reactions faster. He was all intent on his purpose, his mind,
his Force and even his heart, which so often had been left aside unused.
This time his whole being was in harmony. It was giving him an edge, like Maul
had said it would, and in that moment he believed that they would make it, that
the two of them would keep the Dark Lord of the Sith at bay.
He sensed a wave of profound relief and gratitude emanating from the former
Sith. His breathing deepened and evened out and the turmoil was replaced by a
steely determination.
Darkness hit them like a frigid, malevolent wave, but the bond held fast, like
a lifeline in a gale. Pain washed over them, but there was no panic, no fear,
and Obi-Wan knew that, as long as they fought together, they could endure it
for as long as it took.
"So you brought your Jedi boyfriend out to play, apprentice?" Sidious' voice
was dripping venom, but strangely it did not scare him as much any longer.
"I should have imagined it would be him. A failure fucking another. How
appropriate.." he said with contempt. Maul let him talk. He knew Obi-Wan was
not a failure and they were not actually lovers, so his words were only a waste
of breath. He concentrated on his companion's presence, instead, finding calm
and warmth.
"That one should have been left to muck the fields in the Agri-Corps, for all
that he is worth. - Sidious continued - And you let yourself be defeated by
him? You are not worth the time I wasted on you. I should have let your drug-
addled whore of a mother sell you to the Zygarrians when she was so desperate
for her fix..."
Peace wavered. Maul had never had any particular feelings towards his unknown
Iridonian mother, but to hear her insulted thus by that man was quite grating.
"Yes, my dear... Not even your mother thought you were worth anything more than
a fix of synthspice. - the Sith hissed - I tried to make you worth something,
but you have outlived any little usefulness you might have had. You are nothing
to me, a loose end that need tidying up, an inconvenience. I've found someone
much better to substitute you, a real man and not a whinging child in need of
reassurance. You never realised how pathetic you were, did you? Imagine how
pathetic you look now, tailing that Padawan like a stray puppy... How long will
it take for him to realise you are worthless? How long before he leaves you
behind like everyone else did? Or did he tell you that it would be forever? It
does not take long for a little whore like you to become boring..."
He felt like lashing out, like erasing the cold smirk out of those thin,
colourless lips. Why did it hurt so much to hear him say so? Why did he still
have the power to make him feel so small and powerless?
"Shhh... Nothing of what he is saying is true. I will not leave. Not now, not
ever." Obi-Wan whispered warmly. "Just let him talk. Let him waste his breath
with lies."
Maul struggled to get himself back in control, but it was hard, so hard to just
let it go.
"Oh, the wee little Jedi is trying to protect you... How chivalrous... Let's
hope he does a better job with you than with his mentor... - Sidious said,
changing target - Are you not even a bit ashamed of fucking the man who maimed
your Master for life, young Jedi? Is your affection so fickle that he is
already forgotten for an easy fuck? Now I see why he was always so disappoined
with you... He took you out of pity, my boy. Maybe he was going soft in his
dotage, who knows...? But don't delude yourself, you never measured up to his
standards. You would always come second in his affections, after his favourite,
Xanathos. That was a bright boy, not you. You had the finesse of a ploughman.
You could never compare. He was too merciful to tell it to your face, but you
know. It was written plainly into his eyes: you are not good enough."
Something stirred deep in the calm pond that was Obi-Wan's mind, something dark
and painful like guilt and shame. Maul knew that his stint in the Agri-Corps
had left him a deep sense of inadequacy and somehow that bastard also knew and
was using it to try and break him. For some reason this angered him more than
what he had said about him and his mother.
Somehow, it seemed more wrong when the victim was not him. He was used to it
after all.
"Don't listen to him, Obi-Wan! - he entreated - He is a liar. He has been lying
so much that he would not recognise the truth anymore. You are a good man, a
good Jedi."
Obi-Wan tried to calm himself down, but Sidious pressed his advantage and he
could not lend the Padawan his calm, because he could not find any himself.
"You are such an idealistic idiot that you don't even realise that he is using
you to survive. He does not care about you, he has lied to you all the time and
you have believed him because you wanted to believe that someone would care
about a pathetic imbecile like you. No one does. No one. - he declared - And
you've betrayed your Master for him... You should be ashamed of yourself. How
can you live with this shame? You should kill yourself, you worthless betrayer.
You should die." the old Sith declared, matching his statement to a hammering
blow of Dark Power.
Maul could feel Obi-Wan wavering under the combined onslaught, suffocated by
the desperation brought about by the Sith's mind games.
Sidious had found his weak spot, the hidden insecurity that could disrupt his
peace. Obi-Wan didn't have the means to fight against it, but he had and he
would not let his Jedi fall.
He reached for the anger that lived inside of him and that was roaring all the
louder now and used it, slamming it against his former master as hard as he
could.
"Leave him alone! - he yelled, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he sensed
the older Darksider stagger beneath the assault - He is worth a thousand times
you! You don't know anything about strenght! You think you're strong because
you can abuse and torture the weak, but any neighbourhood bully can do that.
You think you are wise because you care only about yourself and treat anyone
else like shit. You know nothing!" He repeated, hammering the darkness
furiously.
He was not going to wait for someone else to free him from his tormentor. He
was going to send him packing himself.
"It takes much more strenght to help the weak find ther own strenght than to
humiliate them, to give hope to the hopeless than to let them despair." He
continued, letting go of his anger and letting the Force flow through him
unimpeded.
It was unfamiliar, lighter and brighter than what he had used until then, but
it was not fundamentally different. The difference was in him.
He looked upon his former master, the man who had molded his life and made him
according to his wishes and felt nothing but contempt and a faint wistfulness
for what could have never been. He was no longer the center of his existence,
no longer an overawing figure, but just a perverted, egotistical, old man. It
made him feel strangely empty, but much lighter and calmer.
"You don't even realise, but it is you who are weak and idiotic. Even if you
win, at the end you will be alone and in constant fear that someone will take
it all from you." he said, realising the truth of his statement even as he
uttered it. The darkness released his grip on Obi-Wan and the Jedi clawed his
way back to peace. Maul could feel it resonate through them both, like a
strange harmony.
"This I promise you: everything you taught me, I will use to stop you. I will
hound you and hunt you. I will not let you taste your victory, even if it costs
my life. - he promised, feeling more peaceful than he had ever felt in his life
before - It is not you who are discarding me, I am discarding you. I renounce
you."
Darth Sidious wavered and the darkness rippled around them. Maul pushed as hard
as he could, sensing a break in the equilibrium of forces.
"Come on, Obi-Wan! Let's send him back to where he belongs!" he entreated.
Obi-Wan surged beside him, bright as a star and added his Force to the push.
Together they were like a hurricane wind that scattered the black smoke that
was Sidious away.
"You will pay for this. Both of you! I will kill you slowly, make you beg for
mercy!" the Sith shrieked faintly in the distance.
Maul did not pay him any notice and kept on pushing. He could feel the dark,
sticky bond between them stretching and thinning and then finally snapping
away. Sidious'presence tumbled away and disappeared.
He was free...
Maul managed a small smile of satisfaction, before the light started rushing
all around him with a sound not unlike the sea, then there was silence.
The pain faded away and a strange lassitude invaded him, making him nearly let
go of his bond with Obi-Wan. He felt as if the boundaries between him and the
rest of the universe were blurring even as his companion slipped away like sand
between his fingers.
It was strange, but very peaceful and he felt tired, so tired that he just
wanted to stop thinking and rest there, in that luminous place of oneness with
everything.
He could hear Obi-Wan's voice in the distance, low and distorted as if through
water. He sounded sad and upset and his voice carried some urgency, even if he
could not distinguish his words.
Doc was also there and she sounded alarmed too.
Why were they so agitated? Sidious had gone, completely this time.
What was wrong now?
Some sort of energy coursed through him, shaking him out of his torpor. The
sounds sharpened and the lassitude faded for a moment.
"Stay with me boy! - Doc was yelling- You cannot die now, damn you!"
Die?
Was he dying?
Was that place death? It was oddly... peaceful, and attractive. Maybe he should
just...
No. He should not.
He had promises to mantain, truths to find.
He had people who cared about him.
He could not let go yet. There would be a time when he would return to that
peaceful place and he would stay there, but that time was not now.
Obi-Wan was holding to his side of the bond as hard as he could, trying to keep
him there, with him.
Maul tried to concentrate on him, to reknit the loosening skein of Force that
united them.
Peace was pulling him away, so he reached deep inside him, finding that jumbled
mass of feelings he still hadn't had time to sort out, all the things Obi-Wan
had made him feel since they had met. He wanted to laugh with him again, fight
with him and talk to him like an equal. He wanted to feel and doubt and find
his own way.
He wanted to learn how real life was like, to be a real person and not just a
tool and he wanted to do this beside the person who had shown him that it was
possible.
He wanted it as he had never wanted anything before.
Maul dragged himself back to the surface, like a diver in a deep sea. The bond
he shared with Obi-Wan was his lifeline and he held on to it with everything he
was.
Light rushed around him again, making him feel dizzy and disoriented, but he
did not stop and finally he broke the surface, gasping for air.
Pains and aches returned with a vengeance but he did not care. Pain meant that
he was still alive and that was what counted.
He struggled to open his eyes and to focus. His eyelids felt like they were
made of lead.
Obi-Wan was kneeling on the cot next to him, still pale with worry. Maul tried
to say something to reassure him, but nothing came out except for a wordless
rasp.
"Shhh... It's OK. Don't tire yourself. - Obi-Wan said softly, grasping his hand
once more - It's alright. Try to rest, OK?"
"Stay with me..." Maul transmitted through the bond.
"I'm not going anywhere." Obi-Wan promised with one of his bright smiles.
"Good." Maul commented with relief.
He held fast to the Jedi's hand and Force and let himself fall back into a
deep, dreamless sleep.
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