…Chapter III – Darkness Encroaching…
It was the third morning where he hadn't slept well, and it was beginning to show. Not that he exhibited any telling physical signs like dark circles under his eyes or pale skin on his cheeks, but he was sure that Anakin noticed how his speech was slower, and that he drank stim-tea with breakfast instead of his usual naris-bud blend. He wondered idly when the boy had grown so observant.
Rather than participate in the spar that day, Obi-Wan stood to the side and practiced the forms of Soresu while Anakin dueled with fellow Padawan Jax Pavan. He watched idly while the boys circled each other around the center mats, their practice blades raised into the guard positions. Anakin was in the opening stance of Ataru; he was, Obi-Wan realized, mimicking Qui-Gon.
The kata took him into a spin, so he missed the first exchange of blows, but he heard the cracks as the two blades met each other. When he next got the opportunity to look past his own blade they were circling again, though Anakin appeared to be pushing the offensive. He lunged forward at Jax, but then had to parry a second series of attacks when he landed off balance with his feet too far apart. Obi-Wan called out a correction to him before he launched himself into another spin-kick. "Watch your feet, Anakin."
Anakin ground out a reply that Obi-Wan only half-heard. This was the more difficult part of his drill, and it required his full focus. He parried attacks from an imaginary enemy, the familiar visage that haunted his nightmares. But as he continued in this vein, his attacks became more violent, less controlled, and therefore sloppy. He deactivated his lightsaber and looked back toward Anakin.
The Padawans had both rushed forward at the same time, and this time the clash was followed by two shrieking sizzles, and then the thud of someone's fist connecting with the other's jaw. When they both staggered backwards, Obi-Wan saw that it was Anakin who was sporting burns.
Both the training lightsabers flicked off, and Obi-Wan made his way to Anakin's side. The first attack had landed on his shoulder; painful, but certainly not fatal. The second attack though -- the one for which Anakin had punched Jax in return -- had been to the side of Anakin's face, dangerously close to the left temple. After checking that the other apprentice was alright, Obi-Wan escorted a disgruntled Anakin to the med-ward.
"I could have beaten him," Anakin grumbled. "One more exchange, I could have gotten through his guard."
Obi-Wan did not reply. Perhaps it was the way his Padawan had been acting the last few days, or perhaps it came from the lack of sleep, but all of a sudden he had the feeling he was being watched.
The Togruta healer who examined Anakin did not talk much as she ran scanners and sensitive fingers over the wounds. "I don't think they are serious," she finally said in a soft, even tone. "But I would like to keep him until the end of the day, just to be certain."
"Of course." Obi-Wan turned his gaze back to his Padawan. "You'll be alright up here for a few hours, right?"
"Sure, Master."
Obi-Wan watched his apprentice for another moment, then said, "I'll bring you that essay you still need to finish for your political studies." He heard Anakin groan as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
He'd barely gone five steps when a new set of voices reached his ear. "How did it happen?..." "...nothing else on him, not even a bruise..."
It was lack of sleep, and therefor lack of judgement, Obi-Wan decided, that made him investigate further. He stepped into the same sort of plain room where he'd left Anakin, and found four Jedi Healers standing around the unmoving figure of a Pho Ph'eahian wearing the grey jumpsuit typical of Temple workers. His head lay to the side at an unnatural angle.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Obi-Wan asked from the doorway.
One of the healers, a human male who Obi-Wan vaguely remembered from lessons on treating injuries in the field, gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Help? Maybe three days ago you could have helped. It looks like his neck was broken; he probably fell off one of the catwalks in the fueling station."
"But he wouldn't have," a new voice, an older Twi'lek also wearing a grey jumpsuit and presumably the one who had found the Pho Ph'eahian, added. "He was always so careful. He wouldn't just fall like that."
The healers looked at each other, and Obi-Wan understood the earlier comment about bruising. If the Pho Ph'eahian had fallen, there would be other signs of impact. The fact that there were none pointed toward something more sinister.
"Show me where you found him," he said to the Twi'lek.
Obligingly, the man bowed to each of the Jedi, and hurried out of the room, Obi-Wan on his heels.
Obi-Wan had never been in the service corridors before. The Twi'lek had led him silently through the twisting labyrinth of passages until they came to a half-lit junction. The Twi'lek pointed him forward, then turned down the left passage himself, claiming that he needed to return to his duties. Obi-Wan let him go; he could understand not being ready to visit the place where a friend had died.
It was quiet in the corridors, the only sounds being the hum of unseen machinery and the muted sounds of Temple life coming from the other side of the thick walls. Obi-Wan moved cautiously, not wanting his footfalls to disturb the rhythm around him. It was peaceful in it's own way, not dissimilar to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
The click of boot heels hitting the tile behind him made him jump. He spun to face the source of the sound--
And stared.
Qui-Gon had always told him that his brain was hardwired for logic, and it was true; Obi-Wan was a very logical person. He liked it when things made sense.
But there was no logical explanation for this. I killed him, he thought. This isn't possible.
And yet, the yellow eyes, set into that grim, determined, red and black face, told him otherwise. Which made the logical side of his brain very angry.
This isn't possible!
The other side of his brain, the part that was still feeling the effects of sleep deprivation, could only think about his nightmares. He wanted this to be like all the others, and he would wake up and find himself tangled in sweat soaked sheets, but the vision before him would be gone.
It has to be an apparition. He kept trying, desperately, to convince himself of this.
…but apparitions don't speak…
"Surprised to see me?"
"'Surprised' is not quite the word I'd use."
The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, which Obi-Wan supposed might have been his form of ironic smile. "I've been looking for you. Do you know why, Jedi?"
"You want revenge."
"No."
The hand that had been hovering over his lightsaber paused, and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. "No?"
The Zabrak began slowly circling Obi-Wan, his piercing gaze never once leaving the Jedi Master. "No. I hunt a man who calls himself Darth Tyranus. I need whatever information you have in order to find him. And you need me to kill him." Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but Maul cut him off with a fiery glare. "You get the prize, the glory if you find any. I only want the favor of my Master. Do you understand, Jedi?"
Steely blue eyes met icy gold; Obi-Wan felt as if he were trying to stare down a gundark. In the end, he had to look away.
"I understand, but this must remain strictly between the two of us."
"Of course." The horned head cocked slightly to one side as he regarded Obi-Wan. "The galaxy thinks I'm dead. Who would believe you anyway?"
Obi-Wan wasn't sure he believed himself. But when Maul extended a tattooed hand for him to shake, and it was solid in his grip, he was forced to believe.
Even if the logical side of his mind didn't want to.
He expected the darkness to be more prevalent around the Zabrak. He expected to feel anger from him, hatred, the emotions that Obi-Wan had always been taught to release. But there was nothing like that. The Force merely swirled around the Sith apprentice in the same manner that it surrounded the Jedi, constantly flowing as he used it, presumably, to cloak himself as he strode confidently forward, far more confidant than Obi-Wan felt.
They moved to an open hanger where a large window looked out on the cityscape. The Sith stood on a ledge, backlit by the sun, and it was difficult for Obi-Wan to make out his expressions. Instead, he relied on the tones and inflections of his voice to make out his -- enemy's? ally's? -- subtext, since the Zabrak had astoundingly little Force presence.
"Are you prepared to depart, Jedi?"
"We're going to leave now?"
"You would rather I give you time to report my presence to your Council." Despite the phrasing, it was not a question. "You have your supplies. What else do you require?"
"My Padawan."
"You want Tyranus to kill the whelp?"
Obi-Wan paused. Skilled as Anakin no doubt was for a boy his age with his limited training, the Sith was right; this was not a mission Anakin was prepared for.
"I should at least tell him that I'm leaving," he finally said.
"He is Force sensitive. He will know." The Zabrak turned away, and Obi-Wan wondered if he would have the courage to turn his back to the Sith like that. A grappling line suddenly fell in front of him, and the Sith reached for it as another dropped before Obi-Wan. "Climb, Jedi," he said, as he began to pull himself upwards. He looked back only once, just long enough to give Obi-Wan an orange eyed glare that clearly said If you back out now, you will die.
Obi-Wan thought quickly. It was not his place to take upon himself the mission of defeating the new Sith apprentice. The Council needed to know, first about the Zabrak, and then about Tyranus. But first that meant capturing the Sith before him, and to do that, he would need a distraction. Preferably one that did not arouse suspicion.
"Kenobi."
Although he did not look down again, Obi-Wan was pleased to note that the Zabrak paused for a brief moment. "My name," he continued, as he finally reached for the waiting line, "is Obi-Wan Kenobi."
The Sith continued his ascent. "I am Darth Maul."
Maul, Obi-Wan thought. Now he had a name for the face, and that helped Obi-Wan to clear his mind of shadows and nightmares, to focus on the here-and-now. He climbed quickly, so that he was level with Maul… a little bit ahead… then, clinging to the line with one hand, he drew and ignited his lightsaber with the other and pointed it downwards at his opponent.
The green blade -- Qui-Gon's; his own had been lost down the reactor shaft -- slashed across, aiming for the Sith's neck; a signal of I-don't-want-to-kill-you,-but-I-will. But as Obi-Wan was opening his mouth to say, "I will take you before the Council," one crimson blade of Maul's lightsaber flashed to life just in time to block the attack. The lines swung dangerously. Obi-Wan considered for a second jumping back down to the Temple's landing platform, but no. It was too important now to be able to capture the Sith.
Now it was Obi-Wan who had to block as the lines swung towards each other again and Maul's lightsaber flashed toward his face. Red and emerald met in a dazzlingly hot-white display, so bright that Obi-Wan had to blink several times in order to clear his vision. By that time Maul had reached the ship. He watched the Zabrak crouch there as he reclipped his lightsaber to his belt and continued to climb, wondering why he didn't run for the deck and take off--
And then he felt the line shifting from below him, doubling up and rising toward the ship, and Obi-Wan was hanging upside-down by the time that he realized that Maul was pulling it with the Force.
"I wasn't planning on killing you yet," the Sith said, just loudly enough for Obi-Wan to hear him over the wind. Obi-Wan, however, could sense through the Force how badly he wanted to lash out. He felt the urge himself, because this being was Qui-Gon's murderer, an enemy of the Jedi. He was obligated to--
Only a Sith deals in absolutes.
And with that thought, he could no longer justify his attack, not without becoming his enemy.
Perhaps Maul sensed his resignation, because he slackened his Force-hold on the line so that Obi-Wan could climb properly into the ship.
They stare at each other for a long moment. By this point they have moved to the ship's upper deck, and Obi-Wan watches the city-scape of Coruscant streak past them as Maul pilots practically unnoticed through the skylanes. So far the Jedi has been asked only one question -- "Will you cooperate?" -- and the answer, because Obi-Wan had no better one, was "Yes."
Now, fighting to control his voice, it is Obi-Wan's turn to inquire of the Sith, "What is your destination?"
"Into space." That's all. Either he doesn't know, or he still does not trust Obi-Wan enough to tell him more. Not that this is much of a surprise. Obi-Wan still does not entirely trust Maul either, even though the Zabrak has, so far, kept his word and not killed him.
They leave the deck when the ship has entered the empty space far outside Coruscant, and a course for a hyperspace route has been set on the autopilot. Obi-Wan follows Maul down to the lower deck again, and the Zabrak directs him to a small, recently emptied storage compartment -- a collection of crates are stacked beside the door -- and points him inside.
When Obi-Wan hears the door shutting and the bolt being slid into place behind him, the only thing he can think is, I have a bad feeling about this.