Maul's POV. I'm kind of on a roll right now. Thanks for reading!
True Balance
Chapter 4:
Trust
Maul inhaled, grateful as the rush of air flowed over his sweating face. It had been warm in the generator and his oxygen level was getting a little worrisome. His ears finally stopped ringing from the horrendous noise that rattled his head.
"Well, hello there, Maul."
His eyes snapped to his rescuer. So blue. Even in his memories; even in his dreams, they were never this blue. His gazed raked over the fair face, re-memorizing the dimple, the full lips, that soft, brown hair. Forgetting to speak, he just stared as the wires hung between them.
The Jedi wore a smile, but his eyes were filled with a rage Maul hadn't seen since he'd been sliced in half. In a voice so soft, it was almost a whisper, Obi Wan broke the silence. "Now, I trust the Force and I trust Master Wodi." His voice was dripping in honey. But Maul caught the poison lace. "But do not think, for one moment, that I forgive you, Darth Maul. I helped you. I kept the Council's eyes off you and you repaid me by slaying Qui-Gon. And after, when you returned, I still wanted to help you. And how did you respond to my attempt? By murdering Satine. You and your precious Master took everything from me. You may not call me by that name until I tell you that it is okay. You will not reach out until I do. Do you understand?" The smile was still there. The tone was still sweet. Yet Maul felt the bile from those words creeping up.
He searched the indigo orbs for any hint of hope. "I understand, Master Kenobi." Reflexively, he tried to pour some malice into his tone, but it faltered.
"Good." He reached in and picked up one of the wire clamps from the floor of the shaft and connected the main router wire straight to the motor ignition. He then yanked out the blue one, bypassing the back up belts. Snapping the panel back on and sealing the wiring, he shook his head. "You don't need those."
"Thank you."
Obi Wan straightened up and resumed his normal volume. "You should be able to get out now." He turned to the group and rejoined them, walking briskly. "Shall we press on?"
Maul stayed in the shaft until he heard the door close. He wriggled out of the machine, chest heavy. He had woken in this temple a few short weeks ago, but it seemed so much longer in his memory. The anticipation of which Jedi would return bore on him most days and he had tried to distract himself with his brother and Ser-In. Finally, he can maybe put everything right.
But Obi Wan was not ready to trust him. After all, how could he? Maul shuddered as the guilt and pain bore onto him, crushing his heart. "Why would she have picked me?" He muttered and then sighed at the damage to his droid station. The panel had broken a good many containers of screws and nuts.
"A longer history with Obi Wan, you have." A gruff voice startled Maul. He whirled around, seeing no one. He looked down and saw a small, green man. He looked up at the Sith, eyes studying his own. "Longer than we were told, hm?"
"Master Yoda, I presume?" He asked, stepping back from the intruder. "And I'm guessing, judging by the size of those ears, that you heard everything those other Jedi didn't.
Yoda nodded in response. "Filled with pain, you are. Letting their pain go, your brethren have. But not you? Hm?" When Obi Wan had described the Master, he expected an ancient creature. But this Yoda was young. It must have been because of the flickering orbs that followed Ser-In and Wodi around. They had cleansed his own body of hate. They could probably give them youth as well.
"It's my pain to bear." He stated simply. "I'm not getting absolution or the hope of redemption anytime soon." Maul gazed with deep longing at the doors.
"For those who seek it, redemption is. Not for others to decide. No. Want it, you must."
The Zabrak sighed, already a little annoyed with the backward talking imp. "It's not that simple. You wouldn't understand." He said dismissively, crouching to gather his scattered equipment.
"Ah..." The Jedi Master shook his head, a nerve-grating, empathetic look in his eyes. "Understand, I do. Deserving of redemption, no good soul feels. Ghosts, yes. Ghosts of the past, our regret is. Distorted is the mirror on which you judge what you deserve. Want redemption, do you?" He asked again.
Maul stilled, not meeting the Jedi's eyes.
"I am not putting that on, Maul."
The boy was being obstinate and ignorant again and it made Maul want to shake the Jedi nitwit. "If the Hutts find out that you are a Padawan, they will kill you." He spoke deliberately, as you would speak to an imbecile. "Or worse. Do you want to know the details on the worse?"
Obi Wan shook his head slowly. "Why do I have to be the slave?" He asked again.
The Sith apprentice sighed with a growl. "Once again, because Jabba knows me. Ben, the Hutts are a back handed business. They do all sorts of dirty things in the Outer Rim and if a pretty little Jedi goes squealing back to the Republic, they are done for." He forced the collar into Obi Wan's hand. "I'm trying to keep you from dying. You need to trust me or neither of us are making it off this rock. Besides, the locals are surprisingly less likely to attack a slave."
"Because they'd have to pay for them?"
"You do have a brain." He joked, smirking at the pout he received in return. "Besides. You're far prettier than me, so you'd pass better as a personal slave."
"Personal slave?" He asked, snapping the collar into place. "Don't tell me that's some sort of servant. I don't particularly enjoy the notion of waiting on you hand and foot."
"It's not." The Sith fingered at the braid hanging from Obi Wan's ear. "We need to get rid of this."
The Padawan's blue eyes widened. "No! You can't! Not this. Never this."
Maul moved gently towards the braid but Obi Wan swatted his hand away. "Ben!" He huffed, not understanding the importance of a silly piece of hair. When he couldn't get near the boy without being blocked, he threw up his hands in defeat. "It's going to give you away. Can't you see that?"
Obi Wan pulled the braid back to the pony-tail and wrapped it around the tuft. Tucking in the end, her glared at the tattooed face. "Cut off my braid, of all the nerve." He muttered. "Better?"
"I suppose. Take my extra pair of pants and my cloak so you don't look like a complete Jedi fool."
"Fine. This is insane, just so you know. And just what is a personal slave, anyway?"
Maul waited until Obi Wan was dressed before swinging his cloak over his shoulders. "Ever heard of the term 'slave bride?'" At the horrified look, he laughed. "Relax. It's the safest. No one will try to buy you off me. And people are always less likely to steal a personal slave while the master is around. So you have to stay in sight. Don't wander and don't talk to anyone."
"So I have to walk around like your whore?"
"Think of it as acting. And you have the role of a 'wife slave.' How would a wife slave be trained to act?"
"Like a wife."
Maul gestured emphatically. "There you go. Are all Jedi so slow witted?" He ignored Obi Wan's indignant huff, amused that he could rile the Padawan so easily. "Now give me your saber."
At that, the boyish face grew stern and Maul felt the wall go up between them. "Excuse me?"
"Slaves don't carry weapons and if someone scans that on you, you're dead."
"Maul, I can't give you my light saber."
The Zabrak placed both hands on the boy's shoulder. "Ben. We got out of the desert because we were together. We can only get off this planet together. I trusted you the other day with that giant cave worm. You need to trust me."
Blue eyes met yellow and after a moment of tension, Obi Wan unclipped his saber from his hip and held it out.
"Well?" Yoda asked, snapping Maul out of his thoughts. They finally made eye contact again and the Sith pondered.
After a few moments, he stood. "Yes. I do want it."
Yoda nodded in finality. "Then seek it, you must. Harder to find redemption, it is, than to find revenge. Test you, it will. Ready, you must be."
Maul stared incredulously at this little being. How could he possibly redeem himself after everything he had done? "Do you think we can accomplish what they want us to?" He hoped Yoda already knew the Champions' plans for the Temple and the union of their Orders.
The Master rested his finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Much has happened. Trust my old master, I do. Understand his thinking, I never could. But here, the Living Force is. Trust in that, I will. In what do you trust, Darth Maul, hm?"
The Zabrak leaned back against the table, gazing at the moonlight filtering in through the windows. He made to answer when the doors opened. Wodi poked his head through the door. "There you are." He said smiling at Yoda. "You're missing the tour. The gardens might particularly interest you."
Yoda raised a hand in acknowledgement. "Continue on, Master Wodi. Have Maul to help me, I do. Catch up to you, we will."
"Alright." He looked skeptically at the Sith who nodded.
"I'm pretty much finished for the night. I'll have the fans going tomorrow." Maul assured him. "Turning them on now would kick up dust. I'll make sure he doesn't get lost." He sneered at Wodi's knowing grin. Master Bell had brought Maul into one on one therapy recently. He still had to attend the group sessions, but he just was not ready to share. Everyone had horrible tales of their guilt. But they paled in comparison to Maul's crimes.
He looked back at where Yoda was and found he had vanished. "Where?" He frantically looked around.
"Look at these paintings, may I?" In the front of the room, near his makeshift bedroom, was Yoda. The small Master was standing on his table, gesturing at the art work. His own Master had beat him when he found his old work and destroyed them all. After waking, he took it up again, as a distraction.
He stalked over to Yoda, a growl building in his throat. "That's all personal!" He said, trying not to be harsh. "You can't just barge into someone's personal space!"
"Ashamed, are you, of your creativity? Opressive is the Dark Side. Not able to express yourself, when training with Sidious, yes?" His tone was softer and Maul bristled at the pity he heard in it.
"Wodi told us not to call it the Dark Side. He calls it Cosmic Force." The deflection was quick and well practiced.
"Not the Cosmic Force, did I mean. Corruption, is the Dark Side. Remains true, that does. Hatred. Yes. The Dark Side, it is. Much, I have to learn of this shift in the Force. Untainted passion, this is." He pointed at the pile. "Interested in learning from it, I do."
Maul paused, feeling skeptical. Ser-In was the only person he let rifle through his things. But something in his being stopped his refusals from leaving his lips. Letting out a defeated sigh, he nodded.
The Master treated the art gently, lifting each piece with care from the haphazard pile and then placing them each in a neat pile. Maul felt a lump in his throat as Yoda made it through about twenty sketches and paintings. Sure enough, the Master stopped, a wondrous look in his face. "Incredible." He murmured, turning to Maul. Those bright green eyes held his gaze for a long, seemingly endless amount of time.
Maul broke eye contact first, looking down at the paper. He knew it. The bust portrait of Obi Wan Kenobi was one of his better works, even if it had been the first time Maul worked with colored chalks.
"From memory, this is."
Desperate to change the subject, Maul turned and wiped his dirty hands on a rag. "We should get to the gardens. The Temple will be on lock-down for the night soon. We wouldn't want Master Bell to pitch a fit, now would we." He strode to the door and held it open, waiting for Yoda to follow.
The little, green Master stared a moment longer before he hopped down to the floor with a small grunt. "Seen Wodi pitch a fit, have you? Doubt that, I do." As he passed the Zabrak, Maul silently wished he'd never be stuck alone with this Yoda again.