"Dantooine. They're on Dantooine," Rhea tells Old Archie as together they pace one of the armament warehouses on Lothal.
"Gotcha," the local lieutenant nods. "And the heavy guns?"
"They stay here. Only these assault rifles and the other small arms on the list go to Dantooine. Oh, and that dozen speeder bikes we talked about earlier, too."
"You're moving a lot of product there."
She nods. "This could be just the beginning. We're trying to develop that customer," she lies. The customer is, of course, the rebels. The location of their new training base is need-to-know information and Old Archie doesn't need to know. It protects him and it protects them. Treason is a deadly business, after all.
The Dantooine base is an idea Maul cooked up with Major Draven. They want all the new Fulcrum operatives to have some basic military and intelligence training before they go into the field. That concept then grew to include training infantry volunteers to reinforce the local uprising on Mimban. If all goes well, Maul plans for the Dantooine camp to be a prototype for future training bases to be located across the Rim.
That's where she comes in. The rebels will oversee the actual training, but Rhea is the point person for the setup of the base itself. That means moving supplies and equipment there from Lothal. It means overseeing quick construction of the onsite prefab barracks and training facilities. It also means arranging for everything from laundry facilities to a small infirmary and a commissary.
It's not the same thing as helping to run the sprawling Dathomir compound, but Rhea's housemaid experience positions her well to understand all the various details that must be managed and the barebones staff that will be required. Unlike the compound where most of the staff is human, the rebel base will be maintained entirely by droids. The fewer sentient beings who know the purpose of the Dantooine camp, the better.
Setting up the small base is a challenge that Rhea is doing her best to meet. It's actually quite doable given there is no limit on the credits she can spend to rush construction and deliveries. The hard part is the time constraint. Maul wants it done yesterday, but he'll settle for a month. To offset the pressure of the aggressive timeline, he fully supports her efforts. Maul assigns her a ship and a pilot at her disposal to come and go as needed from Dathomir. She is excused completely from her housemaid duties so she can focus fulltime on the project.
Initially, Rhea was concerned with how that news would be received, worried that people would assume that she has earned the opportunity by sleeping with the boss. But, as it turns out, the housekeeping staff were delighted for her. Gruff mother figure Mrs. Nettles was bursting with pride and worldly big sister stand-in Marisol couldn't have been more effusive. As longtime Crimson Dawn members, they know how hard it is for a woman to get ahead in the gang. And rather than begrudge her new responsibility, they see it as progress for their sisterhood.
The women's unexpected approval is an affirmation that has been missing in Rhea's life for a long time. Seeing their happiness for her success is important. It allows Rhea to give herself permission to feel proud, too. It's not anything Rhea thought she would ever feel about her gang job, but for the first time she does. That matters . . . a lot. For suddenly—almost inexplicably—Rhea feels okay with how things have evolved since the war.
Life doesn't have to look like you planned in order for it to be good, she's learning. Success isn't always how you imagined it to be. Love isn't either. Rhea knows that some people would say that she is settling. That her standards are too low. That her moral compass is broken. That there's nothing about plotting treason with your violent, crime lord boss lover that should make you proud. But circumstances have forced Rhea to confront her life with vigorous realism. She's now salvaging what she can of her past misfortunes and bad decisions. In the process, she is groping towards happiness and creeping towards purpose. It's empowering.
She didn't know it that first night she arrived on Dathomir, but she was pressing the reset button on her life. Maul's big comeback is turning out to be her big comeback as well. They're in this together, but it's helping them both as individuals, too.
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of cross-galaxy flights, construction meetings, and lengthy comcalls. Now that the Dantooine camp is nearly complete, Rhea has a long list of organizational tasks and procurement items. That's why she's here on Lothal loading up a few more things. After an hour with Archie for a brief stopover, it's on to Dantooine to check on the progress.
Everyone working on the project locally thinks that they are setting up a training outpost for gang members. Like with Maul's weapons purchases, Crimson Dawn's violent reputation provides an easy cover story. Rhea volunteers little information and she receives very few questions. It helps that the gang already has a presence elsewhere on Dantooine. They are already known to the locals.
Crimson Dawn also gives novice Rhea credibility with her general contractor and suppliers. They know she's good for the credits they are spending and they are anxious to avoid mishaps and delays that will result in a dispute. No one wants to pick a fight with a notorious spice gang. Everyone knows it won't be settled by litigation, but by violence.
If anyone questions why someone so young and inexperienced is in her role, no one speaks up. The professionals she works with probably figure that she's accountable up the chain of command and they will be held to account as well. The men all make their suggestions tactfully, and only once or twice does someone take her aside to urge her to rethink a decision. Maybe that's because she tends to accept their advice. Rhea is very happy to accept advice.
All the respect is reassuring, but it does little to keep Rhea from feeling like an imposter in her role. First, she was a clueless housemaid masquerading as Maul's assistant to the rebels. Now, after almost a yearlong crash course in weapons dealing, she really is Maul's assistant for his rebellion work. But that job has morphed from outfitting an army to assembling a base for an army. With each passing day, she's sinking deeper and deeper into treason.
When she arrives on Dantooine today, she discovers that last week's progress did not accomplish all her goals. Weather kept the permacrete poured for the new landing pad from hardening and the secondary power generator is still on backorder. Construction is endlessly frustrating, Rhea is learning. It's one delay after another. What's worse—the delays tend to pile up since many installation tasks must be done in a specific order. Her job is to keep plugging away at progress. But there are days—like today—when she feels discouraged. She's accomplished so much, but there are still so many little things left to be completed.
After two days on Dantooine living out of her ship, it's back home to Dathomir. With all the transit time, she's been gone four days when her shuttle settles down on the compound landing pad. It's late. Close to midnight local time. But in the corner under the floodlights stands a familiar figure. The sight brings a smile to her face.
Some Sith's ladies—well, a lot of them, Rhea suspects—waited by lonely landing pads, marked the hours at windswept homesteads, or stood watch at foreboding castles. All in fretful anticipation of their beloved coming home. But not Rhea. Her role is reversed. She's the lady who comes home to her Dark lord. For tonight, like always when she returns, Maul waits for her. Perhaps it's surprising that a man who can have flashes of possessiveness gives her the freedom to come and go as she pleases. But Maul is far less controlling than she expects. He gives her responsibility and wants her to fulfill it. It's some of his Nightbrother background showing, she thinks. Maul spent his formative years around very capable women who took charge. But Rhea also likes to think that as their relationship has deepened, he feels more secure. He trusts her and she trusts him.
"Safe and sound, Sir," the pilot at her side reports to the boss.
Maul nods. "Thank you." He dismisses the man who heads in the direction of the compound barracks.
Maul's got his shirt on, but it's open and hanging unfastened like he just threw it over his shoulders to go outside. Little beads of sweat show on the red and black rippling chest beneath. It's a telltale sign that Maul has been swinging his sword and swinging it hard. "Been training?" she smiles as she walks up.
"It's good for me," he answers. His words are a little clipped. "I needed it today." He grabs for the small overnight bag she's carrying as together they head inside. "How was the flight?"
"Long. But I slept."
"Hungry?"
"No, not really. It's too late to eat."
"Any progress to report?"
"Yes, but I still have a punchlist two screens long," she sighs. Rhea is disappointed that she can't announce that she's done on schedule.
Yellow eyes slant over to her. "Remember that it's a training camp, not a five-star resort."
"I know. But I want it to be nice."
"It's a training camp. Not our home."
"I know. I brought back another holovid tour so you can see what's left to finish."
"Good."
"What's new here?" she asks for his update. Maul seems stressed. The man has a surprisingly long fuse, making him deceptively high strung. He tends to cloak his rage with his quiet soft-spoken veneer until he finally gives full vent to his anger. Usually with more violence than words. The telltale signs of unease are all present tonight. The tight jaw, the terse words, the late-night sword practice. He's upset about something.
When he doesn't answer, she casually fishes. "Did your guy get the Jedi on Bracca yet?"
"Not yet. That one is proving to be elusive. But I've got a lead on a new Jedi. This time it's a real Jedi."
"That's good news."
"It's the only good news," he grumbles.
"More trouble with the Hutts?" she guesses.
"They killed two more of our guys today."
"Oh, no." Rhea stops short at the news.
"They didn't even bother trying to make it look like an accident this time. Our men were intercepted during a shipment. The Hutts boarded, ejected them out the airlock, and made off with the ship and the cargo."
"How horrible!" she exclaims. No one wants to die frozen and asphyxiated in the cold, dark vacuum of space.
"The Hutts sent Uli a holovid of the whole thing. They must have brought a camera bot along with them. It was all very staged. Our guys surrendered but they still killed them. They clearly planned to kill them. It wasn't about the spice at all."
Rhea gulps. "So this is more provocation?"
Maul nods. "They must think that a gang war is coming and they want to start it on their own terms, at the time and place of their choosing. Come," he resumes walking.
Rhea has to leap to catch up with his purposeful long strides. "But you're going to retaliate? Right?"
"I'm not sure."
"Maul, you have to retaliate." Rhea is firm. This is how a gang works. You are loyal to the gang and the gang is loyal to you. You protect the gang and the gang protects you, even if it's after you're dead.
Maul's mouth twists. "I don't want to give them the war they want. Whatever we do, it will be proportionate. Uli's talking to his best Hutt contacts tomorrow to see what they've been told to say. We'll go from there."
"Who were our men who died?"
"A pilot and a navigator. Two of our best for the Kessel Run. They were very experienced guys who didn't make mistakes and weren't known for taking chances."
"You're saying—"
"I think the Pikes told the Hutts where and when to find them."
"The shipment originated with the Pikes?" she squeaks.
"Yes," Maul confirms grimly.
"That's not good," Rhea remarks under her breath. Maul's news keeps getting worse.
"The Pikes will deny it, of course. But if they are secretly aligned with the Hutts against me, then I definitely don't want a war."
They're at the side entrance to his private wing now. Maul waves a hand to activate the door with the Force and steps aside to let her enter first. When she pauses on the threshold, he confesses his true frustration. "I can't fight the Hutts, the Pikes, and the Empire all at once." Maul is used to navigating thorny gang politics, but this is an especially inconvenient time for it to flare up.
She nods. "We don't have to talk about this." She doesn't want to dwell on his troubles. She knows Maul will brood plenty before he makes a decision. The man is nothing if not deliberate.
Sometimes, with all their focus on organizing the rebellion, it's easy to forget that Maul runs a major crime syndicate. It's a big job, and a dangerous one. Full of treacherous so-called allies and double-crossing customers and suppliers. Being a gang boss is equally, if not more, dangerous than treason in some respects. For while Maul's methods can be brutal, so can his competitors'.
"Come inside and show me that video," he grumbles. "Get my mind off it."
Once they are in his private office, Rhea activates the holodisk with the recording she made this morning on Dantooine. It's twenty minutes of her walking methodically through the new camp pointing out the progress and the remaining tasks to be finished.
"It's looking almost complete," Maul remarks at the end as Rhea gets up to turn the projector off.
"I'm close. I'm really close," she nods.
"Well done, little one, well done," he commends.
Rhea can feel her face flush at the praise. As always, she has trouble taking a compliment. Even one that is merited. She looks down and mumbles, "I'm keeping notes on what to do differently next time . . . if there is a next time . . . "
"There will be a next time. When the rebels see this camp, they are going to want five more like it immediately."
Rhea groans, "I was afraid you were going to say that," even if secretly she is pleased.
"Raddus wants a main base and several satellites. He thinks he has scoped out the perfect spot. Some moon in the Yavin system where there's already a small encampment."
"Yavin? Never heard of it."
"That's it's big appeal. I'm proud of you. I mean it." Maul now looks quizzically at her. "Are you proud of you? Because you should be."
"I guess . . . well, yes. But I missed the deadline."
"That was a false deadline."
"I know." She nods, and now confesses her nagging fear. "Will this base even matter?" Maul's pensive, frustrated mood must be rubbing off on her because she laments, "I want it to matter, but I don't think it will."
"What do you mean?"
She plops back down heavily on the couch beside him as she explains. "We both know that this war won't be settled by tanks and blasters. It will be settled by you and Vader going man-to-man with swords somewhere. And then afterwards, probably in your father's palace . . . in his throne room with you and Plagueis. Right?"
"Yes and no."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Power must be perceived as legitimate in order to be effective and lasting," Maul explains. "That's why Father courted public opinion consistently throughout his career. He seized power, yes, but he did it to near universal acclaim. That was key. And it's why our rebellion must be understood to be a popular uprising and not a coup d'etat. There will have to be a war. Because when things come to fruition, we must have the weight of the galaxy's peoples unified behind our cause, and not just our own ambitions."
"What does that matter?" she grumbles. "If Vader and the Emperor are dead, that's all that matters."
"No, it's not. We might end up exchanging the Empire for chaos."
"Chaos?" she echoes in surprise.
"Yes, chaos. If this turns into merely an assassination plot, then we run the risk that we topple the Empire but there is no consensus for what should take its place. Then, there will be a lot of regional governors running around cutting deals with admirals and generals for power and protection."
"Oh. Where would that leave us?" she worries.
Maul is blunt. "In a bloody civil war with multiple enemies probably. We'll be the underdogs then for certain," he sighs.
"I guess I hadn't thought of a scenario in which we win against the Emperor but we're not in control," she confesses.
"Let's hope that it doesn't come to that," Maul harrumphs. "It's true that Father manipulated the Clone Wars into fruition but the underlying tensions between the Confederacy and the Republic were real and longstanding. Father didn't create them. He stoked them and used them. They are still there under the surface, masked by the veneer of Empire. If ever Father's regime falls, whatever replaces him will need to confront those tensions and keep them in check. Mark my words, they will reassert themselves quickly. It will be a free-for-all if ambitious men with capital ships and armies compete for power as the dominant systems line up alliances."
She nods soberly as his words sink in. "The galaxy has a lot of different systems . . . " she says warily.
"Yes, and they are not all humanoid Core worlds," Maul asserts. "There are an awful lot of alien worlds out there that want a say in things. Nute Gunray might be gone but his cause isn't. The issue of corruption still persists in the Empire. And the inequalities between the Core and the Rim are as bad as they ever were," Maul observes sourly. "If we succeed in this revolution, little one, ruling the galaxy won't be easy."
"You sound like a Separatist," she accuses playfully. She's trying to lighten the mood.
But Maul considers the comment seriously. "I probably am a Separatist in many ways. Their complaints resonate with me. I might have been raised a Core patrician, but that's not who I began life as. The Republic the rebels revere was in desperate need of reform. I'm not sure Bail Organa and Mon Mothma see that," he observes. "They're just too Core and too human in their mindset. Back in the day, only the outsiders could see it."
Intrigued, Rhea asks, "And Plagueis? Does he have Separatist leanings too?"
"Naturally. He's a Muun. Don't forget that he dreamt up Father's playbook. Plagueis was the one to recognize the brewing interregional conflicts that a privileged Core aristocrat like Sheev Palpatine would never have noticed. Now that he's in power, Father pays those problems mere lip service. He doesn't need those talking points to get elected any longer. But mark my words, whoever leads the galaxy after Father will need to address those issues. Those are real issues. If there ever is another Republic, it could easily fail again," he warns.
"You think the rebels are naïve? Is that it?"
He shrugs. "More like idealistic. They think voting will solve every grievance. It won't." Maul is especially critical now. "The Republic functioned best in the years when it was a true melting pot. When wealth was less concentrated and anyone with ingenuity and drive could make a name for themselves. Opportunity has become too entrenched now. That matters because when the gulf between the Haves and the Have Nots gets too big, democracy won't satisfy people."
"Yes, you are definitely sounding like a Separatist," she teases.
"I don't know," Maul muses. "I think I am more populist than Separatist. Community is how I was first raised on Dathomir. That sense of duty to others has long been missing from most of the galaxy. It's a shame, really. Because when people have a sense of community, they have shared priorities and values. Those are the building blocks for consensus and compromise, which is essential to democracy. A galaxy full of people who only care about their own concerns will be a disaster for a new Republic."
"So . . . what's the solution?"
"Another strongman leader who will impose an agenda."
"You mean a new Emperor?"
"Yes."
"Emperor Plagueis?" Rhea guesses where this is heading.
"Unclear. I'm not sure that's his goal." Maul sits back and frowns. "All along, Plagueis wanted Father to be the public figurehead while he stayed in the shadows. I wonder if that is what he will want this time around."
"Would that make you the Emperor?" she asks hopefully.
"It might. I'm not sure."
"You would make a good Emperor," she declares. If there has to be an Emperor instead of an elected Supreme Chancellor, she'll be happy with Maul in charge.
It's clearly an outcome Maul has thought a lot about. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully now. "It's not an easy job. But Father doesn't even try too hard at it. It's like he got the power and that's all he wanted." Maul shakes his head and frowns.
"He's a Sith. Isn't power the point?" Rhea grumbles.
"Yes, but power needs a purpose. Years ago, we set out to improve the galaxy by ruling it. Maybe that was just gaslighting for me as an impressionable kid. But I really believed that what we planned would benefit everyone in the long run. That we would lift the galaxy to an excellence that democracy with its emphasis on compromise would never reach . . . "
"You thought you were doing the right thing," Rhea realizes softly. This is a spin on the Sith plot to implode the Republic that she hasn't heard before. The bad guys—well, at least this bad guy—thought he was helping people.
"I never thought Father would end up such a tyrant," Maul admits. For in some ways, Rhea sees, he was as hoodwinked by Sheev Palpatine as the rest of the galaxy.
Maul's face takes on the plaintive cast it often gets when he speaks of the past. "I spent years training and planning for a future that never came. Sometimes I wonder if any of it mattered . . . if it ever will matter . . . "
Yikes! This conversation has come full circle. Maul's the one worried and having doubts now. It prompts her to double down on her cheerleading. "You're still going to matter," Rhea announces firmly. "We're both going to matter. I promise."
Those bloodshot yellow eyes condescend wistfully now. "You're so young. I was once young like you."
"You usually tell me I'm Light," she reminds Maul with a brightness they both know is a bit forced.
"You're that too. You're good energy, little one. Young and Light is what I need. Especially today." Maul reaches an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close into his side. It's not a lover's embrace, but a supportive hug.
"It will all work out," she soothes. "With the Hutts, with the Pikes, and with the rebels. In the end, it will be fine." It's the mantra that Rhea has inwardly told herself for years during moments of uncertainty and crisis. It will be fine. She's become something of an expert at coping. Maul has too, she knows.
They don't talk like this very often. The issue of how Maul's role in the rebellion will play out long term is a topic Rhea mostly avoids and he doesn't often raise. For her part, that's because she fears how Maul will react to his father. She's worried that he will ultimately betray the rebels to the Emperor and still be spurned by his unforgiving parent. That in the end, everyone will lose. And Maul? Well, he says things like 'one day at a time,' 'we shall see,' and 'the future is always in motion' as he pushes off her fears. Rhea knows that he's very skeptical of Lord Plagueis and worries that he will be used and then discarded. It's why Maul was reluctant to sign up for the rebel cause in the first place. But by now, he's very invested. So is she. For herself, for Maul, and for the galaxy.
But while their talk of the distant future is sparse and mostly filled with doubts and warnings to her, that's not because she and Maul aren't open with each other. It's more a statement on how fluid things are. There are many different ways this could play out, Maul has told her repeatedly. He won't commit to one path. Don't get your heart set on a particular outcome, he cautions, because there are no guarantees. The disappointment and disillusionment underlying those words makes her heart ache for him. It's Rhea's cue to tell Maul that as long as they are together, she will accept any conclusion. Because she is loyal to him more than she is loyal to any cause. Love and family will always trump politics and power for her.
Looking up now at his handsome profile crowned by a circle of horns, she murmurs, "How can I help you? What do you need tonight?"
"I think I need to train a little more. I'm too keyed up to sleep. Go to bed, little one."
"Alright." She leans over to kiss his cheek and whispers, "Tomorrow will be better."
"Let's hope. I will send that holovid tour to Raddus and Draven."
"Don't you want a more high-level summary for them?"
"No. Let's send them all the details. They can make the call for when to commence operations. I say we open Dantooine now as is."
"You're serious!" she gulps.
"Yes. It's close enough."
It turns out that Raddus and Draven are as anxious as Maul is to open the Dantooine camp. And so, a week later, Rhea's punchlist is down to one screen and forty people are now in residence. Rhea was present yesterday afternoon when everyone arrived to help settle them in. Bright and early today, she's waiting at the landing pad as a small, inobtrusive Crimson Dawn transport descends. It's carrying Maul and a few other rebels who will attend the morning's welcome and kickoff meeting.
But as Rhea waits, a lone figure walks down from Maul's ship. It's that Togruta who pulled two swords on Maul on the Tantive IV. Ahsoka Tano, the Jedi who arrested him on Mandalore and then freed him so she could save her own skin.
Rhea eyes her with open hostility as she prances up. Just like you can have positive chemistry and immediate attraction to another person, you can have instinctive dislike at first sight as well. Rhea has just this sort of negative reaction to Ahsoka Tano. The Jedi brings out the worst in her.
The Togruta's shoulders are back, her arms are swinging, and her hips are swaying with what can only be described as a strut. A pair of lightsabers bounce with her every step and she's got a pistol strapped to her lower leg. She's wearing armor on her forearms, lower legs, and her outfit. Altogether, it's a showy display of weaponry. This woman came prepared to fight.
From what Maul has told her, Ahsoka Tano can't be more than a few years older than Rhea. But it seems like at least ten years, maybe more. Part of it is the Jedi's easy self-confidence. But part of it is the Togruta's white facial markings that seem to highlight the deep furrows between her brows and the pronounced downturn to the corners of her lips. It's like the Jedi has a permanent expression of displeasure etched on her still young face. That's longtime unhappiness showing, Rhea perceives.
Well, she'll get no sympathy from her. "Where's Maul?" Rhea demands.
"On the ship still." The Togruta correctly reads her expression of concern. "He's fine. He's wiping the navicomputer so it won't show where we've been."
Rhea exhales. "Good. Where are the others?"
"It's just us today. Change of plans."
"Okay."
"We were never actually introduced. I'm Ahsoka Tano. You are?"
"Rhea Cardulla."
Neither woman offers to shake hands.
"And you are Maul's-?" The Jedi raises her eyebrows expectantly.
Rhea's answer is cool. "I am the Crimson Dawn Lieutenant for the rebellion project."
The statement fails to impress the Togruta who is evidently clueless about gang hierarchy. "What does that mean exactly?"
"I'm his assistant. I'm the one who oversaw the construction of this encampment," Rhea adds proudly.
The Jedi digests this information before she observes, "You're a loyal assistant."
"There are a lot of us at Crimson Dawn who depend on him. We're a big operation."
Again, Togruta fails to be impressed. "You don't like me."
"Well, you pulled a sword on Maul when I first met you."
"It wasn't the best introduction," the Jedi admits. She explains, "I was surprised to see him. Very surprised. I thought he was dead."
"No one can kill Maul," Rhea boasts.
The Jedi ignores her. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would fight alongside a Sith. These are strange times. You know the Empire is bad when it brings people like Maul and I together to oppose it."
"Stop that!" Rhea immediately bristles. "Stop talking about him like that."
"Like what?"
"Like he's beneath you! Maul built the rebel army at considerable risk. He built this camp. He's proven his commitment, so you can stop with the cracks and the insinuations." Rhea shoots the other woman a reproachful look. "You Jedi types always were a little too smug."
The woman just nods slowly as she assesses Rhea further. "You are a very loyal assistant."
"That's right, I am," Rhea snaps back, crossing her arms and popping out her hip. She's not normally an aggressive person. Except around this woman.
"Ladies." It's Maul's high tenor rasp. "Am I interrupting something?" His yellow eyes are twinkling. Evidently, he's enjoying the slight dustup he's walked into.
"Sir!" Rhea can't help but flush and smile at his arrival.
The Togruta smiles too, but the expression is tight and never reaches her eyes.
Looking from one woman to the other, Maul smirks at both of them. He no doubt senses the tension. "No need to grill Lady Tano, I'm safe and sound, Rhea. I'm in one piece."
"More like half a piece," the sour Jedi indulges in some snark.
Maul actually chuckles. Then, he sneers, "I'm still alive, my lady, which is more than most of your brethren can say."
"Stop calling me 'my lady.'"
"So be it, Jedi."
"I'm not a Jedi."
Maul turns back to Rhea now. "Where are the others?"
"Inside. They're waiting. Follow me, Sir." She nods to the Togruta. "You too, my lady Jedi."
"Rhea, be nice to my character assassin," Maul snickers in mock reproof. "She's our guest."
Thoroughly unrepentant Rhea dutifully nods. "Yes, Sir. Right this way, Sir." With a disdainful glance the Jedi's way, she announces, "Now that you're here, Sir, we're ready to begin."
Maul, Draven, and Raddus have jointly devised a two-week training program for the Fulcrum operatives and the Mimban volunteers. It's a crash course in everything you need to know to subvert the Empire. It covers everything from combat strategy and self-defense, to surveillance and espionage tactics, to communication and encryption methods. The program will be run on-site by a white-haired Republic veteran named Jan Dodonna. Maul much preferred that Major Draven supervise things on Dantooine, Rhea knows. But unfortunately, the rebels' secret spymaster can't disappear unnoticed for two weeks from his Imperial military post. And since Draven is very valuable embedded within the enemy ranks, Maul backed down. But he wasn't happy about the choice of the self-proclaimed 'General' Dodonna.
The man is an Imperial navy defector who abandoned his command of a star destroyer to start his own homegrown rebellion. Dodonna is a true believer who currently runs a large, successful, and aggressive rebel cell in the Yavin system where Senators Organa and Mothma want to locate their main base of operations. That's largely why Dodonna got the command here at Dantooine. He's auditioning for the role at the future rebel stronghold.
Dodonna may be popular with the rebel Senators, but Maul is not a fan. He thinks the man is a bombastic blowhard who's more interested in headline grabbing stunts and rhetoric than actual warfare. Maul argued hard for one of the more extremist rebels, a man named Saw Gerrera, to get the post at Dantooine. Rhea had lurked in the background of a heated comcall debate, listening to Maul assert that the rebels need a combat tested, battle hardened veteran insurgent like Gerrera to train their most essential personnel. But apparently, that was a non-starter. Senator Mothma vetoed Gerrera, saying the man represented a faction of supporters she did not want to encourage. And so, Maul was forced to accept the consensus for Dodonna. Rhea had to smother a giggle at Maul's face when Senator Mothma thanked him for being a team player. Afterwards, Maul had complained that Saw Gerrera's example is exactly what will make the rebellion successful. But he has to be careful about advocating that view too strenuously given his reveal as a former Sith lord makes him a bit of an extremist himself.
That means today General Dodonna is running the show. Maul is introduced with Raddus and Draven as the triumvirate founding fathers of the rebellion military. Rhea is introduced as Maul's personal assistant. No mention is made of Crimson Dawn. Does anyone recognize the prominent gang insignia that hangs around Maul's neck? It matches the patch on the upper left arm of the uniform dress that Rhea's wearing as well as the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. The Togruta Jedi and Cassian Andor, the young spy Rhea met on Lothal, know about their background, of course. But do the other Fulcrum operatives and the new Mimban recruits? If they do, no one lets on.
Once the introductions and the welcoming speeches are done and the actual training begins, Rhea disappears to attend to tasks of her own. She emerges a few hours later and finds the group firing blaster rounds as they compete as teams at an indoor obstacle course. Maul himself is doing the instruction, she sees. Rhea watches from afar as he demonstrates tactics for how to clear an area of hostiles. Then Maul and a reprogrammed Imperial security droid that Cassian Andor brought along begin working as a duo. They attempt to thwart the teams of rebel trainees who do their best to implement Maul's teaching.
It's a simulation of actual combat. The blasters must be set to the lowest stun setting. They clearly sting at impact, but no one actually appears hurt.
Like everyone else, Maul works with a blaster in his hand. Somehow, that just looks wrong. Rhea watches as he makes the Jedi put her swords away for the exercise as well. But she keeps pulling them automatically out of habit. You do that in a real skirmish and you've just outed yourself, Maul tells her pointedly. And then, you have escalated the threat level enormously and made certain that whatever report gets written gets kicked up to Vader's desk. That will bring immediate scrutiny and better resources down on us. So only pull those swords if you have to, Maul instructs. Be careful about using the Force, he adds. Keep your skills hidden and they are a far greater advantage.
"Spoken like a sneaky Sith," the Togruta observes tartly.
"The Sith won the first round in large part thanks to their stealth," Maul retorts. "Let's use their same tactics against them."
The Togruta begrudgingly nods to his reasoning. But even without her swords, the Jedi's superior experience and abilities show. Soon, Maul sidelines her so others with lesser skills can get more instruction.
He is very patient, Rhea sees. She's not surprised. Maul has always struck her as a natural teacher. She sees it in their own interactions. Does Ahsoka Tano see it as well? Rhea wonders as the Jedi crosses the room to take up position beside her. They stand there, side by side both watching Maul. Even in silence, their mutual antagonism is palpable.
"You're not just his assistant, are you?" the Jedi finally speaks up.
Rhea plays dumb. "I don't know what you mean."
"Bail said he can't decide if you two are more like father and daughter or a couple. I thought that sounded ridiculous, but now I'm wondering as well."
"So you like to gossip?" Rhea slants her some serious side eye. "I wouldn't have pegged the Senator for a gossip."
"He's not. Neither am I. I'm just looking to understand."
"What does it matter?" Rhea challenges.
"Well, I can tell you really dislike me and you're very protective of Maul, so I'd like to understand why."
Rhea switches from defense to offense now. "Here's what you need to know—Maul has my back and I have his. And if I had the Force, I might have killed you already for threatening him."
To her credit, the Togruta doesn't laugh in her face. She looks tempted, but she resists. Her rejoinder is a straight-faced nod, "I guess I'm lucky then."
"That's right."
They go back to watching Maul while standing shoulder to shoulder in silence. Until, of course, the big mouthed Togruta just can't contain her curiosity.
"Aren't you a little young for him?"
Rhea pretends not to hear.
"He's got to be at least fifty. Maybe pushing sixty. He could easily be your father."
Rhea says nothing.
"Is this some groupie thing? The Sith always have groupies. Acolytes, Apprentices, assassins . . . that sort of thing. The Sith love an entourage."
This time Rhea speaks up. In a huff. "He's not a Sith and I'm not a groupie. I'm a Lieutenant in Crimson Dawn. Where I come from, that means something."
"What do you have to do to become a Lieutenant?"
"Pay your dues," Rhea hisses, "and be loyal."
"So, stand by your man? Is that it?"
"Yes."
That shuts the Jedi down for a while. But then, she speaks up again. "How long have you been in his gang?"
"Over ten years."
She seems a bit shocked. "You joined as a teenager?"
"Yes."
"So Maul groomed you? Did he pick you out for this role? Or did he lure you?" The Jedi seems to think those are the only three explanations that might apply.
Rhea answers stiffly. "He gave me this opportunity. Maul mentors me. He teaches me." And does she sound defensive? Because she's not defensive. Not at all.
"Does he hurt you too?" the Togruta asks quietly.
Rhea fumes in silence at the question, conveniently forgetting that Maul has threatened to hurt her on several occasions. Because he didn't mean it, of course. So it doesn't count. Really, those threats were just an expression of how much she means to him. They were motivated by love, so that makes them good, actually.
The persistent Jedi steps a little closer now as she speaks under her breath. "Do you need help getting out?" She's utterly sincere as she misreads the situation. Like that Jedi Maul was gifted by the Hutts, this woman also seems to want to rescue her. "I can help you get out," she promises.
Rhea gives her a sharp look before she shuts down that idea. "I don't want out. I want to be with him." She lifts her chin stubbornly. "I'm no damsel in distress or some lost soul you need to save."
"I see."
Another long silence falls between them. Rhea spends it stewing. The Jedi makes her feel insecure. Unworthy of Maul. Rhea knows she has no Force and no face. She can't offer a woman's traditional attraction of beauty and she can't offer her Sith the siren's lure of power. Basically, all she can offer is herself, and she worries that's not enough to merit a man like Maul.
Moreover, the nosy Togruta at her side can't seem to contain her lurid fascination with their relationship. Her next question gets downright uncomfortable. "So . . . if Maul's half machine, how does this romance work exactly?"
Rhea glares indignantly at the highly inappropriate question. "It works. It works very well," she brags, feeling stung on Maul's behalf. She's shrill now as she adds, "In fact, he's a beast in bed and he loves my wet ass pu—"
"Whoa!" The Jedi holds up a forestalling hand. "Too much information."
"You asked," Rhea hisses. "Take it from me, once you go Dark, you never go back," she improvises another boast.
The Jedi shoots her a quelling look. "Don't say anymore. Forget I asked."
"He's taken, Jedi!" Rhea snarls. "Don't think you'll break your Temple vows with him."
She receives a withering look of disdain. "As if that would ever happen."
"And don't you think you can blow up his com with naked pics and I won't notice. Because I have access, bitch—"
"You can stand down," the Jedi quells her coolly. "There's not a chance that will ever happen."
"Good. Any other questions?"
"How'd you get that scar?"
"Not from Maul, if that's what you're thinking."
"I wasn't thinking that—"
"You were."
Across the hangar, Maul now extinguishes his sword. He approaches the trainees and says a few parting words of praise and encouragement. Then he takes his leave from General Dodonna. Maul heads straight for her. "Come, Rhea. We're going."
"You're leaving now?" the Jedi is surprised.
"Yes. Come, Rhea."
"But we're just getting started—"
"This is Dodonna's show, not mine. He's in charge."
"But you're g-great at this," the Jedi stammers. "It pains me to say that, but it's true. Maul, we need you," she grumbles.
"Time to step up and be a leader yourself, Lady Tano," he responds. Again, he beckons to Rhea. "Let's go. Our work here is done."
"Wait—" It's the Jedi again.
Maul is impatient to be away. He pauses. "Was there something else?"
Ahsoka Tano hesitates before she blurts out, "You surprised me with that offer on Mandalore."
"It was sincere."
"I see that now." The Jedi flashes a look of consternation. "You keep surprising me, Maul. I know I'm right about you, but I guess I'm wrong in some ways too . . . "
That's quite a mea culpa, all things considered. Maul gives it appropriate weight, but then he asserts, "It's just like how you think you know the Force, but you only know part of it. The universe is far more nuanced and complicated than your Jedi mindset perceives."
"I'm no Jedi," the Togruta huffs.
"That's a good thing," Maul approves. "Free your mind from the limitations they put on you, and you will discover your true potential. You have very impressive skills. Vader taught you well."
Ahsoka Tano lets the crack about her old Master slide. Instead, the Jedi disavows staunchly, "There are no answers in Darkness."
"Of course, there are," Maul counters evenly. Then, he reaches for Rhea's hand. In a silent but showy display of coupledom, he leads her outside to the landing pad.
"Thank you for saving me from her," Rhea says under her breath as they leave. "She's awful."
"It looked like you had things under control." Maul now reveals casually. "Darth Plagueis wants me to kill her."
"I'm okay with that."
Maul turns surprised yellow eyes on her. Is he bemused? Is he disappointed? Is he pleased? She can't be sure. He can be so enigmatic some times.
Rhea immediately backtracks. "Wait—that came out wrong. I'm not okay with murder. Murder is wrong," she declares primly. It's probably a ridiculous statement given who she's talking to.
"Murder is wrong," Maul slowly repeats her conviction. "Even murdering Vader?" he raises an eyebrow.
"Well . . . I mean . . . I'm okay with murdering Vader. He has it coming."
"Just Vader?" he eggs her on. "Who else has it coming? Tell me your hit list, little one."
"There's the Emperor. And Kenobi. Definitely Kenobi."
"So bloodthirsty," Maul smirks. "I think I'm rubbing off on you."
"They have it coming," Rhea insists.
She thinks a moment as they wait for the ramp to their transport to lower. "I guess I'm okay with death in war," she decides. "Killing the enemy before they kill you is okay . . . I guess . . . and all those men are the enemy," she rationalizes.
"Uhmm . . . yes. If you're not with us, you're the enemy," Maul intones. "But Ahsoka Tano is our ally, not our enemy."
Rhea is having none of it. "We both know she's the enemy."
"So true, so true." Maul drapes an easy arm over her shoulder now as together they climb aboard. "Tell me . . . how come I get the benefit of the doubt and she doesn't?"
"I don't trust her."
"Ah, but you do trust me? How many times must I tell you—never trust a Sith, little one," he teases.
Rhea shoots him a look. "Don't start with that line again-"
Maul chuckles. "You're getting sassy," he purrs into her ear, "and I love it."
Maul slips into the cockpit and busies himself with the controls. He's an expert pilot. Rhea just watches from one of the rear seats, her mind busy thinking. "Why does Plagueis want that Jedi dead?" she asks once they make the jump to lightspeed.
"That's a very good question," Maul answers as he kicks back in his seat. That right knee comes up now, like it always does. Relaxed Maul is an inveterate manspreader. It makes Rhea wonder what it feels like to stretch those artificial legs.
"She's Vader's old Padawan," he reminds her. "I think Plagueis fears her influence over him."
"What does that matter if you're going to kill him?"
"You're right. It only matters if we don't kill him." Maul's eyes converge and narrow now.
Rhea doesn't like where this is going either. "If Plagueis doesn't want to kill Vader, then what does he want with him?" Her eyes dart to Maul's. She worries aloud, "You don't think he wants Vader for his Apprentice, do you?"
"Vader's a wreck. He's worse than me. And he's the most hated man in the galaxy. Why would you set Vader up as the face of your new regime? He's the symbol of the old regime," Maul reasons.
It's good logic. "You're right. Vader can't stick around or the galaxy will never move forward. And then, there won't be room for you," she frets.
"That's not an issue. Plagueis doesn't care about the Rule of Two."
"Yes, but you do. And for all you know, Vader might as well."
Maul looks troubled now. "Plagueis says he has a lure for Vader. That we don't need Ahsoka to get him to come to us."
"What could possibly be more of a lure than his old Padawan who he presumably loved at one time? That Jedi is probably the one person left alive who Vader cares about . . . or used to care about."
"I don't know," Maul shakes his head.
"Is it just power?" she brainstorms. "You always say the Sith love power."
"Vader has power. He's the Apprentice. There's no trading up from that role with Plagueis around as an immortal Master."
"Yeah," she thinks aloud. "What's in it for Vader to swap one Master for another?" And now, a worrying thought occurs. "What if Plagueis wants to offer Vader the Emperor role? Maul, that should be your role-"
"Yes, it should."
Maul goes silent for a long moment. That's a sure giveaway that he is rattled. A silent Maul is a dangerous Maul. All in Crimson Dawn know to get worried when the boss begins to say less and less.
Finally, he speaks. "I think Lady Tano needs to live," he decides slowly. "I don't want to make it too easy for Plagueis to dump me."
"Right," Rhea concurs. "We're not doing this so Vader can rule the galaxy."