The Force Wills - Chapter 128

Asajj closed the door to the captain’s cabin of the Omen and leaned against it wearily.

It galled her that she would show such weakness, but being a locus for Talzin’s presence even with the ichor vat’s help took a toll. Add the fact that the Mother of the Nightsisters had channeled enough power to worm her way through Maul’s natural defenses…

She wanted nothing more in this moment than to also find a bed and welcome the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

She pushed herself off the door, firming her resolve and took a few steps to enter the Omen’s cockpit.

The harsh blue glare of tumbling hyperspace greeted her and in the middle was a small island of stability, with Ahsoka seated in the pilot’s chair, her left hand browsing through a star chart and studying it intently.

By the void, how could she stand it?

Asajj had never had a problem with hyperspace travel, until she had set foot in this novel cockpit. She had travelled the galaxy since she had become Dooku’s apprentice, in every size of ship she could care to name, from the smallest starfighter to the biggest dreadnought. Yet when confronted with the sight of raw hyperspace with seemingly no solid barrier separating her from it - it felt like her spine wanted to jump out of her back.  

She pulled inward, calling on the Force to remove the annoying stupid fear. It was an illusion…

“How’s Maul?” Ahsoka asked, frowning in annoyance at the star chart.

Asajj slipped into the co-pilot seat, equilibrium restored, “Sleeping, the first proper rest he's had for a very long time.”

“Are you going to keep him asleep for the entire journey back to Dathomir?”

“No, Mother Talzin will rejoin us when I have rested enough and regained my strength. She’ll speak with Maul later. He may have bested his base desires and the Dark Side for now, but it’ll be an ongoing process to keep it that way.”

“Good.”

“What are you looking for so intently?”

“A suitable repair station,” Ahsoka sighed in annoyance. “Lotho Minor’s acid rain was one thing, but Maul’s uncontrolled Force expression damaged a number of structural components. As it is now, I don’t think the Omen could survive another hyperspace entry. It was already riding on the blade’s edge leaving the Lotho system.”

“Then we better drop out either where we can repair or buy a new ship.”

“What about the Dreadveil?”

Asajj shook her head, “The Nightsister’s mission is a three day journey from our current position. It would depend how well it went or whether she’s in a position to potentially rescue us. No, we can’t count on that.”

“Then our only option is Lutrillia,” Ahsoka’s hands danced on the interface before the holo and description of the planet in question shimmered into existence.

It was a mostly barren planet of flat plains, tundra, scattered oases and only a single minor ocean in the lower hemisphere. She inwardly groaned at the wildly divergent temperature readings. The native Lutrillians were ostensibly part of the Republic, but they had no Senate representation, falling under the Yarith senator representation block. More importantly for the security of their endeavor, the planet had a low Holonet rating, with only a single repeater in orbit, which was only used by the various Lutrillian City Councils.

“Will they be able to fix this ship?”

Ahsoka nodded, “It’s only structural work, I could do it myself with the right materials and a workshop available.”

“Good, how long?”

“Twenty hours there, assuming we find a good spaceport, another few days of repair work. If complications don’t present themselves.”   

“Will they?” Asajj asked intently.

Ahsoka’s mouth twitched in humor, “There’s always that possibility, Asajj.”

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The Omen burst out of hyperspace into high orbit of Lutrillia.

Immediate warnings were thrown up by its computers, complaining about structural integrity and recommending immediate drydock time. Ahsoka slapped the holos away in annoyance, clearly concentrating on her flying. Asajj also sensed the togruta’s presence swelling in the Force, practically channeling it into the ship itself.

“If this atmo entry goes wrong, you grab Maul and take the escape pod. Make sure you land on one of the platform-cities.”

Asajj nodded burying her apprehension and casting off fear.

Lutrillia’s plains were home to burrowing predators simply called nippers and chompers. Anything standing still for long enough would soon be inundated with the two types of creatures that would eat almost everything, including people and the hulls of the ships they flew in on.

Asajj had studied the database on both animals and while Dathomir’s fauna were more deadly, the Lutrillian beasts made up for it with sheer numbers, their ambush tactics and sheer resilience in the face of a very hostile environment. No one wanted to face an entire herd of nippers jumping out of the ground from every direction, nor face down a group of massive chompers with their massive jaws of serrated teeth.

She cleared her mind as the Omen began to shudder with the heat of atmospheric entry.

The shields were up to full but the stresses of deceleration were still there.

Then the hull made a noise that she had never heard a ship make before during entry.

“What was that?!”

“Lateral strut deformation, I’ve got it,” Ahsoka said, her eyes closed, shifting her hands smoothly on the yoke.

Asajj wished the stupid cockpit would be a little less immersive, as the plasma flames glowed from violet to a bright orange that she had to squint against.

The thumps and shuddering got steadily worse over the next few minutes.

Finally, the relative velocity indicator showed the ship rapidly passing below ten times the local speed of sound and the Omen speared through the streaks of thin upper atmospheric clouds.

“Not out of the woods until we set this thing down,” Ahsoka gritted her teeth, as the ship was now pushed around by turbulent high altitude winds.

She pushed down on the yoke, trading altitude for more speed.

Asajj eyes widened as the Omen was now easily pushing over 1600 kph in the atmosphere.

Ahsoka triggered something with the ship’s shields and soon they were hitting 1900 kph!

“Shouldn’t we be slowing down?!”

“The longer we spend in the air, the more chance there is of something going wrong. I’m holding the ship together fine for now, but that could change. Get on the radio and get us landing clearance.”

Asajj ignored the shaking and rattling ship around her, tapping on the comlink holos.

“Glintspire spaceport, this is transport Bes’uliik. Request emergency landing clearance.”

“Bes’uliik, this is Glintspire Control, we copy that. What is the nature of your emergency?”

Asajj didn’t see a need to lie, “Structural damage, we’re barely holding together, but no damage to propulsion, should be able to make a controlled landing.”

“Roger that, Bes’uliik. We will be scrambling emergency crews as a precaution. You are cleared for Pad 3640.”

“Thank you, Control. We see the beacon, locking on.”

The forward HUD lit up in the distant horizon, showing a flashing signal.

In mere minutes, the first view of the massive platform-city crept over the horizon.

All of Lutrillia’s 900 million population was housed on such platform-cities, mounted on a combination of gigantic repulsors, wheels and tracks, which could be pulled up and lowered as needed during maintenance cycles. The cities were always moving because of the native lutrillian’s nomadic culture, which itself stemmed from the survival need of keeping in motion due to the predatory fauna. However, even the mighty platform-cities had to keep moving because a nipper and chomper infestation could eventually destroy a city. Which was why the most valuable commodity on the world was the drive parts and equipment to keep a platform-city in good repair and on the move.

Glintspire wasn’t the largest city on the planet, but it was ranked in the top ten. It was nearly 19 square kilometers of moving city in a hexagonal shape, the base of the platform standing sixty meters above the tundra, whilst the densely clustered buildings rose up to 400 meters into the sky. Protected from the punishing icy winds by shields that glinted silver in the atmosphere.

There wasn’t enough space to truly have any architectural flair or expression, but the lutrillians did put some impressive reliefs on their boxy buildings - each telling some sort of historical folk tale.

The Omen, its transponder now disguised as the Bes'uliik, circled around the city from south to east, before it slowed down dramatically, slid over the city shields and came to hover above the spaceport on its eastern side.

The rattling of the ship died down significantly as it began sinking towards the designated pad, which was housed in an recessed port within the wide spaceport building itself.

Asajj marginally relaxed when the ship folded into its landing configuration without issue and touched down with a thump.

At least, right until the pad itself began sinking further into the city, revealing it was actually an elevator for landed ships.

Ahsoka quickly began running through the shutdown sequence, most of which she was doing with her skill in Mecha Deru.

The shaft they were travelling down had numerous turrets that almost looked like weapon emplacements but a quick scan showed them to be much more benign in purpose, throwing out fire retardant liquids to any ship on fire.

The elevator stopped then began moving horizontally into a tunnel, through which they passed a procession of hangar bays filled with a variety of ships.

Eventually the Omen was brought into an empty hangar bay where nearly a dozen figures in emergency gear and equipment were waiting.  

“Well, let’s not keep them in suspense,” Ahsoka said, putting the ship into full standby and switching off the holo interior of the cockpit.

They needn’t have worried, because by the time they had exited the Omen’s airlock, there was only a single lutrillian waiting for them.

He was a stocky example of his species, with coarse snow-white fur, mottled with black patches, and deep-set eyes, which were squinting into a large datapad and occasionally looking up at the Omen as they approached him. He wore a starship mechanic’s overall and a belt heavily weighed down with tools. His shoulder also had a rather bulky heat lamp clipped to it.

“Welcome to Lutrillia,” he said uncomfortably. He was clearly not used to being the courteous point of first contact for off-world visitors. “My- my name is Mech- Mechanic Vorn Skell.”

“A pleasure, Mechanic Skell,” Ahsoka smiled courteously, thankfully doing away with all the Jedi bowing. “I’m Beweza, and this is my colleague Anje. You’re assigned to this bay?”

“Yes, and- and a few others, but when I saw your ship I had to come immediately. We- we don’t get many like it here in the southern reaches.” His beady brown eyes took in the ship’s sleek lines with clear appreciation.

“She is a beauty,” Ahsoka declared, adopting a mask of pride, playing up a spacer persona. “I hope you’ll be able to help me get her to 100% again.”

“It’s certainly possible, though I’ve never seen damage like this,” Skell held up the large datapad, showing a scan of the Omen. “It almost looks like something you carried blew up, but the stress patterns make no sense…”

“Don’t worry about it, Skell,” Ahsoka said intently, the Force laced her words and fell like a subtle blanket on the mind of the lutrillian.

“Ah, I won’t w- worry about it,” he shrugged.

“So how much will it cost and how long?”

His wide mouth twisted with uncertainty, “D-difficult to say. Some of these damaged struts look to be in hard to reach places. I can already tell you that we’re going to have to remove the starboard nacelle-wing entirely. Just doing that is going to take most of a full day shift. 

“Give me your best guess, Skell.”

“Three days…” he said eventually, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s working with two others and droids. L- labor cost alone for that is 4500. We will also have to fabricate replacements from scratch since we don’t have parts for a Kom’rk class ship, add another 6000.”

Asajj internally winced and really hoped that Ahsoka hadn’t come on this trip empty handed. Talzin had only budgeted half that in discretionary spending when she had dispatched her to the south and most of that was meant for Nightsister Kozri on her mission.

“That will not be a problem, you may proceed. I will also pitch in with the repairs, as I know my own ship and are Mechanic level 3 certified.”

“We- we don’t usually like the customer also working with us, it c- can interfere with the team-”

Ahsoka held up a palm, “I will be the soul of discretion. Things will go faster, Skell.”

“They’ll go faster,” he said absently, his eyes going slightly glassy as another Mind Trick was performed.

“Another thing to note, Mechanic Skell, is that we’re carrying delicate and confidential cargo. None of your team may enter the interior of the ship. If any work needs to be performed there, I will do so myself.”

“That- that will be fine.” He held out the datapad. “Will you be paying in cred token or by account?”

Ahsoka pulled a thousand credit chit from a belt pocket and flicked it over. “That’s a deposit to get you started.”

He caught it deftly, “I’ll- I’ll call my crew to begin right away.”

When the mechanic had left, speaking into a personal comlink, Asajj gave her ‘colleague’ a flinty stare. “Three days?”

“It’s a long time, considering who we have to keep stable and content,” Ahsoka admitted. “But we have no choice in the matter. How long from here to the rendezvous?”

“Two days.”

“And it would take another eight days to get back to your home. Perhaps this pause is a blessing in disguise. It wouldn’t do for our cargo to become truly unstable whilst you’re stuck with it in hyperspace.”

Asajj had to concede that her Jedi acquaintance had a point. “We have to also plan for the worst case.”

She didn’t like to think about it. Talzin would definitely need to give her agreement first, but having Maul on the loose with what he knew would be utterly disastrous.

Ahsoka snorted with a wry chuckle. “That it should come down to this. The fate of everything hangs not in the balance of some grand battle of starships or an epic duel of blades, but rather the battle in the heart and spirit of one man.”

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Maul awoke but long experience had him remain absolutely still in the… rather comfortable bed.

He tried to remember when he had last experienced such a thing.

It was aboard the Scimitar, flying under cloak towards Naboo.

His old master was always one to seemingly appreciate the finer things in life and the sleeping quarters aboard the ship was no different.

A bed that conformed to every curve of the body smartly, duvet and linens made of the finest cantonican golden silk.

Normally, Maul would have simply slept in the pilot’s chair. His training and every instinct demanded that he be ready at any moment, no matter if he was in hyperspace or cloaked. Yet something about that journey to Naboo had been different. It was only with the benefit of hindsight that he now realized that he had experienced the ominous premonition of events to come.

He had instead retired to the luxurious quarters to sleep there.

What would it hurt? He had thought.

Then the infiltration into the Theed palace and confronting Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Maul had fought as he had been conditioned and taught - precision, aggression, and control. Easily holding his own against two Jedi, a seasoned Master and his padawan who was probably close to becoming a knight in his own right. It was immediately clear that he was superior to both, neither having ever truly fought an opponent wielding a saber staff. He knew the Jedi had long since abandoned the weapon, except for those who guarded the Coruscant Temple. That inexperience haunted them both in that battle.

Then the moment.

The moment Jinn had faltered, leaving the opening for the hilt of the saberstaff to smash into his face, before a lightning turn with the reverse blade ran straight through the Jedi’s chest.

He remembered Kenobi’s scream in sheer despair and disbelief as his master collapsed to the plasma chamber’s floor.

Maul felt the triumph, the utter satisfaction as he had whirled around to regard Kenobi, stuck as he was behind the force field.

Then came the pride, the arrogance.

What was this padawan against the one who had just felled his master?

It would be over in moments.

They had both paced, waiting for the timed field to come down, the suspense building and the eagerness to join battle.

The field came down and Maul didn’t face a mere padawan.

The flurry of strikes and blows were incredible.

His heart had soared as the padawan proved to be the stronger and more resilient of the two Jedi, but his inexperience cost him.

Kenobi was so focused on the contest of blades that he left himself open to the Force Push.

Losing his saber and plunging down the reactor shaft.

Maul casually kicked the Jedi’s weapon down and swung his blade against the side of the shaft…

Kenobi is beaten, he had thought.

He savored every moment of the enemy’s helplessness and despair as the Jedi hung from the protruding edge of a shield emitter in the shaft.

But it had all been a feint.

Maul railed at the following memory, he didn’t want to relive it. He didn’t want to acknowledge what his pride had cost. In his arrogance he had underestimated Kenobi… NO!

Yet it seemed his subconscious would not be denied as he was propelled forcefully through the event.

Kenobi pulled himself up, using a Force Pull leveraged on his own body! It was augmented with Speed as well and Maul could do nothing but turn around as fast he could.

Kenobi had also summoned his fallen master’s weapon in the blurring somersault, the green blade flashed.

Maul had felt a wrenching burning sensation through his waist, he smelled the ash of his own clothing being carbonized, then utter PAIN!

The world spun as he fell, bouncing hard against the reactor shaft with his own head, then he felt his own waist and legs bounce by as well…  and together they fell down and down…

“Stop pretending to be asleep, Maul,” said the voice of the Nightsister, standing a few meters behind him.

He mercifully pulled out of the accursed memory of his own failure. What was this? He was a warrior. He didn’t wallow in self-pity. He moved on!

His eyes opened, only seeing the side of the cabin he had been moved to.

He sat up fluidly, bringing his new legs to touch the floor and threw off the blanket.

Ventress stood with folded arms and regarded him with alert suspicious eyes. He didn’t need to look at her lightsaber hilts to know they were on her hips, thereby not betraying his thoughts as he evaluated whether he could Force Pull both of them to his hands.

No, it would be foolish. Her strength was substantial and his skill, honed to perfection over years, had atrophied. His body and mind might be restored but his command and facility over it and the Force had suffered badly.

He could feel the disembodied presence of his mother nearby as well and the Jedi was outside the ship, along with a group of alien creatures.

“Where are we?” he asked slowly, even as he struggled to sense further and find his own answer.

“Glintspire City, on the world of Lutrillia. We had to stop here for some repairs after your little display of power on the troop deck.”

He glared at the scorn he sensed in her words. “I have killed for less, Nightsister.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

She gestured to a small desk with a switched off terminal screen. On it was a tray filled to the brim with a variety of food that looked and smelled… amazing.

“You need to eat properly. Between Mother Talzin and Ahsoka’s healing, you’ve been given a reprieve, but that is wearing off.”

In that moment, as if it had been waiting for it, his stomach gnawed and twisted in demand.

As much as he despised showing this weakness, it was as if his entire mind was wiped clean and had only one focus. He extended his hand to the tray, calling on the Force.

The tray twitched as his control slipped, his anger at the failure crystallized his will and moments later the tray hovered through the air into his grasp.

It took all his will to use the utensils and not just shove the food into his mouth. He would die rather than act like a mad animal again.

The first bite, the taste and chewing it. 

The memories surged forth of his last meal as a proper thinking sentient aboard the Scimitar, the few hours before it left hyperspace.

It had been a standard ration from the ship’s consumables, though Palpatine had much more luxurious food aboard, he hadn’t had the patience or the knowledge to properly prepare it. This food was clearly not from a ration, he could taste and sense the hand that had prepared it with care, attention to detail and flavorful flourishes that only came from an experienced chef. He somehow doubted that Nightsister Ventress was the one who had made it, which meant…

The old paranoia instincts flared.

He was eating food prepared by the Jedi Ahsoka.

Had she poisoned it?

Weaved in some cunning binary agent to force his compliance?

Was she as a Jedi even capable of such cunning?

His thoughts went in circles even as he damningly continued eating.

His stomach and instincts would not be denied.

The memories of his time in that cave on Lotho Minor were there, but dulled, distant, mostly a blurring landscape of time with little specifics, but the one difference was when he had feasted on flesh. Things slowed down, the madness abating for moments as pleasure had filled his senses, relief at a filled stomach.   

He gritted his teeth on a delectable morsel of marinated nerf meat, banishing the memories with force and continued his meal.

“While you’re eating we should talk about more specifics of your condition,” Ventress sighed wearily, pulling out the small chair next to the desk and sitting down with crossed legs. “When Mother Talzin and I built your new prosthetics, we made it as fully functional as possible, with an aim to promote your sanity and long term stability.”

Maul paused his eating as he took in those words and looked down at his own biometallic waist wearily. “I… I feel nothing there.”

“For the moment, we have disabled things until we could explain properly,” Ventress explained awkwardly and very uncomfortably. “Think of the armored exterior shell of your waist as clothing, it can open and reveal your capacity for using a Refresher. I’m not sure how you managed on Lotho Minor, most likely the junker who fitted you in that prosthetic droid made some arrangement for waste products.”

Maul’s mind whirled and struggled to find purchase. “Are you saying you’ve given me-”

“Yes,” Ventress said quickly, her entire bearing now stiff and was that embarrassment he was sensing? “Talzin and I collaborated on… the design. If you have any problems we can… adjust things.”

He tried to remember the last time he had given any thought to females and the desires of flesh.

Maybe when he was a boy a few times, but then Sidious had come. In the many years under his apprenticeship he was taught only in respect of using those natural desires in others as leverage to accomplish an assassination. There were few sentients in the galaxy who could keep their guard up in the middle of copulation, after all.

Never had he thought of … partaking.

Between Sidious’ training and the Dark Side, it left almost no room for such thoughts.

He firmly banished the nascent appreciation for Ventress’ form that was naturally bubbling to the surface of his mind, refusing to actually look at her in response to that desire.

“I doubt it will be necessary,” he said firmly, continuing his meal.

She nodded, a hint of relief crossing her features. “It’s an emulation of all the natural male dathomiri functions. The surface of the legs will transmit touch with no delay, you’ve managed balance with simple walking, but you’ve yet to demonstrate running or more complex maneuvers. You will have to go through a period of adjustment and training before you can even think of holding your own in a lightsaber duel.”

Maul inwardly cursed as the truth of the matter hit him, she was correct.

His old combat arts for the saberstaff, honed over countless hours and years under the unforgiving eye of Sidious would be practically useless now. The gait of the legs, their weight, it changed everything. Did Ventress and Talzin design it that way on purpose? To throw an obstacle in his way, create that weakness so he would need to rely on them?

More than likely, that was precisely their motivation.

Another chain.

He fought with the urge to hurl the food knife in his hand through Ventress’ eye.

He could see how that would go.

He wouldn’t be able to impart enough force, she’d see it coming easily, never mind sensing it and stop the attack contemptuously.

All he’d achieve was them layering more chains on him.

Finally, he took the last bite of the delicious meal, put the tray and utensils aside. “I am your prisoner then, it seems.”

Ventress shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Maul. Sidious is the one who wants you dead. I gave you the memory of the miraluka assassin, we have her body on the lower deck. Ahsoka severed your bond with him in such a way that he could only conclude that the assassination was successful. If you show yourself and attract his attention again, he will want to know how he was fooled. He will capture you and torture it out of you. He was your master, how will that go, Maul? Do you want that?”

He felt his hands clench and the fear that he had lived with for most of his life rose to the surface.

Sidious himself.

How Mother Talzin, Ventress or this Jedi could ever think to oppose that being was beyond his grasp.

He stood alone with the power of a thousand years of Sith knowledge behind him, perhaps even more.

Maul remembered as a young teenager, catching a fleeting glimpse of a room in Sidious’ hidden complex in Coruscant’s industrial works sector. It was solely devoted to a glowing red pyramid, mounted on a dias. It was only later in the scraps of lore that his master taught, that he understood it to be an ancient Sith holocron which was thousands of years old.

He knew how Sidious fought with the lightsaber, with the Force itself.

He knew how Sidious tortured.

There was no resistance possible.

You yielded and broke. If Sidious still had a use for you, you were reassembled just enough to function in the intended role and purpose, after which death would come, if you were lucky.

“No,” he answered at last.

“Then for your own sake, do not oppose us. Join us.”

Maul shook his head, this was insanity, foolishness and impossibility.

Fight Sidious?

The sheer notion of it was the height of folly.

“If the plan has reached this stage, it is far too late. He sits as the head of the Republic, does he not?” He had just been nominated for it when Maul had made the journey to Naboo.

Asajj nodded.

“Too much is in motion, his contingencies will flow around whatever obstacles or setbacks you place in his path.”

She grinned at him with a knowing glint. “That is precisely the idea.”

That brought some pause to his thoughts. “What are you talking about, Nightsister?”

“There is a design, Maul. One created by Mother Talzin, Jedi Ahsoka and another whom I will not yet name. I don’t know the full details myself, because I don’t need to know. I can, however, trust that they want to save their own skins as much as I want to save my own. I am content to play my part. There is more that can be told to you of this plan, if you cooperate, if you help, if you prove that you can be trusted to that extent.”

He hated this.

He was a weapon. A warrior. A blade to be wielded.

There was just him and the enemy. There was no intrigue, no mind games, no tricks.

He felt like he was stepping onto a battlefield with no weapon.

It was infuriating, that he had been reduced to this!

There was only one thing to do and it was something rather ironically that Sidious had trained him in rather effectively - adapt. If the enemy was too strong, lure them into a disadvantageous position that played to your own strengths and strike with no mercy.

He’d see what this unlikely alliance of enemies that had formed against Sidious had to offer and move on from there. That such a thing was even possible without attracting his old master’s gaze was already an amazing event. 

He held Ventress’ gaze for a long moment before adopting a mask of visible reluctance. “We will see. I’ll withhold judgment until I hear more from Mother Talzin. In the meantime,  I have one request.”

“What is it?”

He hated that he was about to admit to this, but it was becoming unbearable as he sat in the cabin. “I want to see the sky and stars over my head.”

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It wasn’t so easy as to just take a walk outside.

Maul understood from a young age that his tattooed visage was quite fearsome in the eyes of most sentients. Even Sidious had encouraged some adjustments to the tattoos on his face to enhance that aspect. It naturally came with the downside that he had to remain hooded when he didn’t want to be observed, which was then combined with the Force arts of stealth and certain technology to allow the infiltration of any fortress in the galaxy.

Now his true form would be even more memorable, as his prosthesis was utterly unique and quite intimidating in its own right.

Which was how he had to wait a further half an hour for the Jedi to return from a local clothing store with a tall beige robe in folded lutrillian style with a hood attached.

“Do you want to go out or not?” Tano asked him flatly, as he regarded the outfit with mild distaste. “Oh, should it have been in black?”

Maul grunted, pointedly not reacting to her prodding and donned the robe. “It will do.”

She turned to Ventress, “Make sure to put your lightsabers in your hidden pockets. There’ll be a thief who attempts to pickpocket your belt on level 59 before you reach the park elevator. This city is very crowded and while you can retrieve them easily, I’d prefer we avoid any adventures here and leave unnecessary traces of our passage.”

Ventress was donning her own auburn robe and quickly followed the Jedi’s advice and foresight.

Maul emerged from the Omen and into the large volume of the hangar bay.

That alone helped somewhat in relieving the interminable feeling that had settled on him ever since he had properly regained his sanity.

Yet more weakness!

He was Darth Maul!

He should inspire fear, not be the object of it.

Yet now should the utterly pathetic fear of enclosed spaces fall upon him.

His hands clenched in anger as he fought and railed against this new chain that the universe heaped upon him.

Why?

Why this?

He inwardly burned with humiliation. 

“Coming Zars?”

He glared and fumed as he hurried in Ventress’ wake towards the hangar bay exit.

Now, to anyone who asked, he was Zars Yath from Dathomir. It was a pre-arranged identity that Ventress had handed him, complete with an entire false history. He was now a Nightbrother mercenary who had been almost fatally injured on a mission for Talzin and the clan. 

A single turbolift ride later, which had him fighting his new fear again and they emerged into a bustling corridor of the spaceport.

Everywhere in sight, lutrillians.

Maul was severely tempted to just Force Push everyone out of his way just to make some space.

He gritted his teeth as he hurried awkwardly to Ventress’ side, as they both walked with the flow of the crowd. It was most fortunate that his new legs made him the tallest being in the corridor, keeping his head well above the press of bodies, keeping the worst of this claustrophobia at bay.

How he wished for his saberstaff or any lightsaber. Anything to keep this feeling of powerlessness at bay. Was this another of Talzin’s chains on him? It had to be. She and Ventress had been in his mind and body during the ritual, they would have ample opportunity and motive to do it.

They had to pause at a security and customs check-in, where he felt Ventress use the Force to facilitate their passing. Befuddling the lutrillian guard and the scanner.

The crowded conditions worked in their favor here and they passed through, exiting the spaceport.

They found the first bank of turbolifts and had to wait for a car going upward.

When one did arrive it was almost full to bursting point.

I’d be doing them all a favor by going on a rampage! Lessen this overcrowding problem a bit. He thought furiously.

He stepped inside, fighting and tearing at the chain of fear on his being with all his will.

Why did it not shatter?

It wormed around him, slithering out of his grasp, pushing on his mind and body.

He felt his brow begin to sweat, his hands straining, crushing into fists, flexing.

There must be a way.

Mercifully, the doors opened and they exited on what looked to be the highest floor of this building.

A lutrillian bumped into Ventress going the other way.

“So sorry, so sorry,” the being apologized with a cringe and quickly retreated into the throng of his kind passing through.

Maul latched on to the distraction, smirking as he felt the prophesied thief’s frustration and rage at being thwarted in stealing from an off-worlder.

Ventress stopped at a door being watched by a very bored lutrillian in a booth, who checked his terminal briefly.

“Space just opened up, that’ll be five credits each.” She quickly pulled out low denomination chits and paid. “Thank you, welcome to Glintspire Meadows.”

The doors slid open, revealing a small ramp and Maul felt the slight rush of turbulent air around his body.

He struggled not to break into a sprint and was seriously tempted to try using Force Speed, to the void with the potential consequences.

The hallway opened up and at last he stepped out.

Above him was a cool blue sky and a single bright sun lashing down its light and radiation.

He stumbled forward, catching onto a railing and just breathed deeply in relief, staring up into the seemingly endless sky above.

He tried putting out of his mind just how long it had been and actually somewhat succeeded. There was just him and the slightly chilly air nipping at his face, breathing it in.

It felt like freedom.

For so long, that word was utterly meaningless to his existence. Now it crashed into his being with the force of a meteor strike. He had been in bondage to Sidious for so long. Why was it that only now he truly felt the chains and yoke that the man had on him?

The answer came simply - it was the absence of them.  

His spirit felt like it wanted to take flight into the air.

Without Sidious’ bond, he recognized what his old master had been doing. Trapping him into an endless self-sustaining loop of anger, fear, then shame for his failure and weakness for falling to madness. Someone truly strong would’ve endured the junker’s imprecise surgery, would’ve overcome the pain and the maddeningly incorrect signals that were wired directly into his nervous system.

Maul was not strong. How could he be? The spirits of the Sith of old were probably laughing at him in derision. Defeated by a lowly padawan, defeated by junkers, defeated by his own rebellious body who couldn’t actually tolerate the prosthetic, falling into madness, which was just another defeat. A pathetic retreat into being an animal!

He opened his eyes, barely taking in the exotic flora of the park around him, carefully maintained by both hovering droid and lutrillian gardeners moving here and there. It was the first space in this city he had seen that was not crowded. Flowers of colors that he could and couldn’t see danced in the wind, the rustle of red leaves on trees as the low wind hissed through them. He could even feel the soft dew of grass underneath his artificial feet.

In the distance, beyond the mobile city’s glimmering pearl shield, the flat landscape slowly passed by, with only minor distant hills in sight as the city steadily crawled eastward on the equatorial latitude.

“Ask your questions, Maul.”

The harsh echoed multi-voice of his mother resounded to his right.

His hands, empowered with the Force, left finger dents in the railing as he looked in that direction.

Talzin was there in the open, Ventress casually leaning against the railing further down, her eyes glowing green. He looked around for any reaction from the nearby lutrillian gardeners or other park visitors, but none of them reacted to the sudden appearance of such an outlandish sight. One male lutrillian came walking by within a meter of Talzin, staring right through her and went on his way.

She laughed mockingly. “Did you really think I would be visible to them?”

“There is much I don’t know about the Nightsister arts,” he retorted.

“Consider this your first lesson, my son. We can escape the sight of anyone, with the only exception being those Jedi and Sith who are sufficiently powerful.”

“Such as Sidious.”

“If a Nightsister was able to hide from his senses then this galaxy would’ve been a very different place, Maul. I’d have slit that kin-killing nydak’s throat long ago for what he did on Dathomir when he took you. Now ask, my son, no question is forbidden. I sense your turmoil burning like fire.”

“Did you do this to me?”

Talzin folded her arms and walked to the edge of the park, staring out the stark desolate beauty of this world.

“No. My son, you’ve just spent more than a decade in a constant hell. No amount of healing, empowerment from the ichor, me or the Jedi, will ever remove that legacy. That is something only you can do for yourself.”

The railing groaned under his hands as it bent more, threatening to break under his strength. “How could I be so weak?”  he asked with gritted teeth.

“I challenge any to endure what you did and not be dead. You fail to realize that you, being here and now, on this world, completely unbeknownst to Sidious is a great victory. More than you can comprehend. For the first time, we have truly blinded his eyes to our own machinations. He moves on the mistaken conclusion that you are dead and now his plans will move on and build on that cracked foundation.”

 Maul couldn’t believe he was saying this, “It may work, mother. It would also depend on the Jedi’s foresight. How accurate is it?”

“As accurate as can be expected, her ability is not infallible. How it compares to Sidious’ is not easily put into words. She can explore the paths, navigate them and relate what she sees. Whether the future actually becomes that, is another matter entirely. I am only alive because of her. Dathomir, the Nightsisters and brothers also owe her their lives. She showed me the path of ruin and extermination we would’ve trodden otherwise.”

“Then I must ask her to do the same for me.”

“Be warned, you may not be pleased with what you see, my son. She merely told you of your immediate future should you continue the path of vengeance against Kenobi.”

“My pleasure is irrelevant, I will face whatever it is.” He glared at her intently. “Do you also counsel me to cast aside my revenge?”

“If the stakes had been different, then I would have encouraged you. He is your enemy and his victory over you casts a pall that will haunt your every action. Now, for the good of yourself and Dathomir, you must delay your quest for revenge. Our enemy is now technically in charge of the Jedi and if you move openly against them, you move openly against him. For in the end, he is the one you truly most fear, my son. That is what you must conquer.”

Talzin’s words might as well have been a lightsaber to the heart, so deeply into the truth they pierced.

He alone, of anyone in the galaxy, knew the strength of Sidious.

Knew how that man could fight with a lightsaber blade.

Knew how the Force Lightning from those fingers could scorch flesh from bone in moments if he wanted to, or prolong the agony for days afterwards.

Knew how his strength could rip right through your defenses, grabbing you to pull, crush or choke.

That was just how he could kill, but the mind behind that power was even worse, which could turn your life into a living purgatory and would enjoy every moment of it. 

He turned around and faced the door leading back to the cramped confines of the city.

The fear arose again, coiling up and threatening to choke, his heart began racing.

Without pause, he began walking.

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A/N: Imagining and getting into Maul's head was an experience. He's truly the story's ultimate survivor. The show could hardly delve into the sheer trauma he had and then shrugs it off. Not to mention the ugly practical implications for such body prosthesis. I tried to strike more of a balance here. Hope you enjoy the weekend and stay awesome folks!