It's Maul's first real battle, although not his first kill. He is twelve, and vibrating with energy. He's been instructed to stay inside the ship- Master is outside, in the thick of battle, and Maul is trapped inside (his Master told him that he needed Maul inside, the guard the ship, in case any of the scum managed to slip inside the vessel. The Zabrak is waiting near the ramp eagerly, listening to the shouts and screams and explosions of battle). Maul wants to move desperately, but for right now he's supposed to sit quiet and still, waiting for the enemy to come running around the corner so he can dispose of them. His Master had mentioned that they might be Jedi, and Maul wants desperately for that. He can prove that he is worth something, that all of Master's investments, all his training sessions, have paid off. The halls of the ship are mostly silent, save for the echoes from outside, and then- Footsteps!

Maul goes perfectly, utterly motionless, knife gripped in the center of his palm. He waits until the footsteps slow, halt. He can hear a heavy breathing from just around the corner- a few paces away, not far- and Maul begins to stand, slowly. If my prey won't come to me, I'll hunt them down. He freezes when a pole whacks right about where his head would have been had he stood to his full height. It clacks down to the tile at his feet, barely missing his boot, and snakes back around the corner, leaving a dark trail of soot and the smell of singed flesh. Maul's heart is in his throat, throbbing. Close, but now I'll be able to-

Maul flings himself around the corner, straight into the robes of a Jedi knight. He feels the Jedi reel back even as he plunges his knife deep under their ribs, slicing through the layers of fabric and skin, elbowing away their hands as they reach for their saber-

Maul is hurled away. He hits the ground at three meters distant, rolling and bouncing back upwards to his feet. A dull throb from his left shoulder makes Maul twitch in anger. I should have landed better than that. The Zabrak looks up at the Jedi. A female. A dark-skinned woman in swirling robes, holding a metal tipped spear in her hands. The weapon looks lethal, the end buzzing faintly with electric current. Her robes hang open at the waist where he'd slashed her, but his knife hadn't broken the skin (she's far taller than Maul, and he'd miscalculated the height of her ribcage- Maul's always hated being so small). She scowls.

"You're just a child."

Maul snarls in anger, baring his teeth. How dare she. He charges, boots pounding against the floor.

The woman levels her spear at him. Maul feints to the left, and swings around right as the spear tip blurs past his face, sizzling. The Jedi suddenly spins on her heel, the shaft of the spear shoving into the soft tissue of Maul's waist like a bar, sending him stumbling into the wall. Shit-

Maul slams his palm into the metal panelling, attempting to bounce off it and leap over the spear, only to find himself pinned in place. He struggles to move, to counteract her hold on him, but she is too strong, and his experience with the Force is still too green to give him the strength he needs to break away. Rendered inanimate, Maul glares at her, muscles trembling from exertion. She blinks, once: slowly, calmly.

"You're Force-sensitive."

Maul hisses, irate. I'll kill her.

He never gets the chance. The vessel lurches to the side, and the woman stumbles. Her grip on Maul never lessens, even as she falls to her knees. She turns to look back, cursing as she stands. The Jedi glances at Maul, almost curiously, before storming away, back down through the halls of his Master's ship. Maul cannot allow her to escape. If Master finds out...the punishment will hurt. Badly. He shudders at the memory of burning skin and lashes.

Maul feels her hold on him lessening. His knees wobble and hit the floor hard. His arms are trembling as he pulls himself up to chase her, and Maul curses his own weakness. If I were stronger this never would have happened. The Jedi scum would be dead.

The Zabrak is breathing hard by the time he reaches the ramp (he shouldn't be, not after all the time he's spent training, but the air is so thick and humid and hot from the rain his throat closes up). The Jedi is gone, and the durasteel gleams wetly from the rain. It's still raining, and Maul can sense that it will continue long after the ship has jumped into hyperspace. He wants a closer look at the battlefield (it's his first and besides, the ramp is still extended. Master might call at any moment, so he'd better get a glimpse now, before it's too late). Maul strides to the edge of the platform, carefully peering over at the ground. The ship is about twenty meters from the earth, and the distance is only growing (Odd- Master must have boarded the ship, and yet…) Maul can't see much because of the gloom and the rain, but if he peers closely he thinks he can see the beaten armor of Mandalorians littering the ground, glistening in the rubble.

MAUL. Summons, from his Master. The word swirls through his mind, and Maul can feel a tug on the invisible lifeline that connects them. It makes a needle of pain lance through his belly, although that might just be from hunger- Maul hasn't eaten in since the day before yesterday, and the world feels a little fuzzy. Part of my punishment...

Maul turns on his heel, ready to report his failures to his Master, when the ship shudders. MAUL! (Again: yes Master, I am here, I am on my way-) Maul takes a step forward, only to lurch backwards as the ship rocks to the side. The rain doesn't help, and before he's fully aware of it, Maul is clawing at the edge of the ramp, dangling twenty-five meters above the battlefield. Oh, damn. Maul is scrabbling as hard as he can against the slick steel, but he's slowly slipping. Damn, damn, damn… Another bolt from a cannon below blasts the ship, and Maul is sent sailing through the air. His eyes widen as he falls (it had been his only nightmare as a young child. An endless, dark shaft, and him hurtling down it, unable to stop and unable to do anything but scream-) Maul panics as he watches the ship grow smaller, the ground reaching up for him, clawed, like a hand, the urgent pull from his Master lessening, fading as they're drawn apart-

Maul hits the rubble hard, shouting. He is aware of stones crunching into his flesh, a buzzing sort of pain, and then, nothing.

Maul wakes with a whimper. He's far from lucid- hardly aware of how the landscape dips and moves around him, how he's clutched tight to someone's chest. All he can think about is the pain that radiates outwards from his chest and abdomen, on the pounding in his skull. He feels his abdominal muscles contract, and suddenly he's dry heaving, gasping as tears run down his face. His head throbs as the world seems to twist, and then the ground is mere inches from his eyes (strange, Maul thinks, I don't remember landing at all, just falling-). Maul spits up reddish bile. Someone is holding him up above the dirt, broad hands heavy and wide on his wounds, and it's putting too much pressure on his chest, he feels something hard shift beneath his skin, and the nausea is too much now, and Maul gurgles as he starts to cough, shuddering as blood drips onto the rocks below. The pain is too much, he's too sensitive, too bruised, and his eyes roll back into his head as Maul goes limp.

The ship is old, outdated. The Jedi prefer such vessels so they could more easily pass unseen. The idea is that no one pays attention to a rickety looking freighter.

Maul pulls the sheets more carefully around his chest. He's lying on his back, in the ship's medical ward (the bed is probably the softest thing he's ever slept on, and the blanket is so warm. But Maul pushes away thoughts like these. He can't afford to be lulled into a false sense of security). So far, he's been left mostly alone, but Maul can feel them monitoring him through a camera positioned in a corner. Damn Jedi.

He doesn't remember much about how he got here, or who exactly brought him here. The Zabrak has the fuzzy memory of screaming in agony. And then the inside of this ship, with its bright piercing lights and its cool interior. Broken images of hands grabbing at him, and distorted faces looming across his vision. Maul shudders and stops thinking about it. Instead, he tugs on the soft bands that stretch across his abdomen and tether him to the bed. The don't know my allegiances yet. They're being cautious since I've already attacked one of their own. He lets his gaze run along his forearm to the I.V. drip that's been inserted just on the top of his arm. Maul sighs. At least I've got painkillers. My entire body feels...tender.

The padding of feet alerts the Zabrak to someone nearing the room. Maul is about to shrink back into the security of his bed when he recalls his Master. Never let the enemy sense your fear, or else you'll deserve what happens to you. So Maul takes a deep breath and focuses on his undercurrent of anger. How dare they separate me from my Master. How dare they take me captive, and watch me like some dog. Maul's gaze flicks to the camera in the corner. Bastards.

"You're awake." A tall Jedi has entered the room, male, wearing robes of brown and grey. Maul's gaze narrows and he glares at the Jedi. The man sits on a white plastic chair positioned by Maul's bed.

"My name is Qui-Gon."

Maul snarls.

The man simply smiles, gently. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard.

"May I know your name?"

Maul does not respond. Won't respond. Because that'd be too close to obliging him.

"I've got to address you somehow. I can't just refer to you as 'child' forever, you know."

Maul bristles. "I'm not a child!" His voice is close to a croak, and Maul realizes his mouth is pasty. Damn dehydration to hell.

"Oh? And how old are you?" The man is smiling, smiling, smiling. Maul wants nothing more than to bash his overly-happy face against the pavement. Some other time, when I'm able to move without pain. When I've healed completely.

Perhaps sensing Maul's intent, the Jedi changes tracks. "Why were you on Senator Palpatine's ship?"

Maul is quiet, for a moment, deliberating. They'll be less likely to release me if they learn I'm his apprentice. But…

"I...was employed by Senator Palpatine as an errand boy." An idea sprung into his mind, and Maul has to wrestle a smirk from his face.

"Oh, were you?"

Maul pretends to squirm. "Yes. Well. He occasionally required...other services."

The Jedi sits up straighter. "Do you mean those of a sexual nature?"

"Yes." Maul is surprised to realize that he's not entirely lying, either. There were times when Sidious HAD used Maul for sexual release.

The Jedi looks extremely offended and disturbed. "Did he tell you to guard the ship while he was...negotiating?"

Maul was glad he'd shied away from the subject of sex. "Yes." If by 'negotiating' you mean destroying parts of the Jedi order.

"And that's why you attacked Adi?"

Maul blinks, feigning ignorance. "Who?"

"You attempted to stab her."

"Oh. The other Jedi. Yes. That's why I...attacked her."

The man nodded. "I see. And she mentioned that you were Force-sensitive?"

They were treading near dangerous matters, now. "...Yes, I am. That is one of the main reasons Master chose me to be his errand boy."

The Jedi stiffens, eyes narrowing nearly imperceptibly. "You call Senator Palpatine 'Master'?"

Maul feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. What a juvenile mistake. I'm fucked. "I-ah- yes. When he requests it of me." Redirect, redirect, redirect. Make him think it's part of the web-

"Oh." The Jedi seems slightly taken aback. "May I have your name now?"

Maul looks away. "It's- Maul."

"Maul? That a customary name from your planet?" Shit. Maul had no idea whether or not names like his were common on his home planet. He'd never been exposed to others of his species, much less from his home planet. Maul didn't even know if he was born on a planet, or in space.

"I- don't know. I've never been to my home planet. But it's the name that my parents gave me." Better not invite any further conversations about THAT.

"Hm. Alright, Maul. If you need anything, you can push this red button." The Jedi points a long finger to a wire to Maul's left. "And I'm sure you'll be wanting to know how we found you."

"Yes." This was definitely something that Maul wanted to know. "And the extent of my injuries."

Qui-Gon- no, the Jedi, the JEDI, keep it impersonal, Maul- nods. "The negotiations took a bad turn, and there was a fight. We were gathering up the wounded and dead, and stumbled across you, unconscious and limp on the rocks. We had our medics take you to the ship and care for you."

Maul frowned. "Where are the other wounded being housed?"

"I should have told you this first- the battle was a couple of days ago, and most of them have been released from the medical ward. We didn't know what kind of treatment to give you because we couldn't verify what species you are. By the way, do you know?"

Maul shakes his head dumbly, ignoring the throbbing that had started beneath his temples.

"Ah. Well, your injuries weren't too serious, incredibly enough- someone had reported that you fell from Darth-no, Senator Palpatine's aircraft. Probably because of your connection to the Force. All you've got are some cracked ribs, a punctured lung, and a bad hit to the head. Bruising, of course. You got off easy. Most people who fall from ships like that die on impact."

Maul blinks. This Jedi's a chatterbox. And trying to keep Master's true identity from me. "I'm very tired."

"Oh?" The Jedi stands. "Rest, then, Maul. We'll have a few more questions for you soon. And don't forget the red button." He strides from the room, leaving Maul to contemplate his new situation.

I don't know if he swallowed my story, but...for now, I can concentrate on a plan to escape. Despite Maul's wishes, his eyelids began to feel heavy. Oh...got to rest. Not usually this weak, but…